


Late Again

by Bravo_48



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Fandom, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Drinking to Cope, Erik is a Father, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Government Experimentation, Kidnapping, Pietro Maximoff Feels, Protective Erik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 56,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7082626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bravo_48/pseuds/Bravo_48
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The "Apocalypse Incident" has taken its toll on Erik Lehnsherr as the aftermath of the battle has left him hollow and lost on what to do with his life. He's been from a wanted terrorist to playing the role of a henchmen to a god, but nothing felt as important to him as being a father, but even that ended with tragedy. Bless Charles' heart of gold for helping him piece himself together, but he still feels so lost........<br/>Peter Maximoff has always lived for the thrill (and speed) of life, but that doesn't mean he can always handle it. It took him a week for his brain to register that "Magneto" was his father and a month to fully accept it. The guy didn't seem so bad. Without Erik, Peter would have never found out how to break into highly secured prisons or how great it is to be an X-Men! Too bad Erik doesn't know how much of an impact he created in Peter's life... Funny part is that even with his ludicrous speed, Peter always seems too late to tell him so. (And always picks the worst times to try.)</p><p> Especially when his life decides to turn upside-down in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Aftermath

    It has been a week since Apocalypse was defeated and in that time period, nobody has had a decent night's sleep. With rebuilding Xavier's School to shaking the news reporters off their tail, everyone residing at the castle-like mansion had been busy. Well, Jean and Erik had been doing all the work, but everyone else was contributing the best they could. It only took until the end of the week for the school to be rebuilt. To say that the school itself looked amazing would have been an understatement, as many new features were added inside and out. In addition to the new rooms that were added for future kids and classrooms, Xavier's School now held the "Danger Room." The "Danger Room" could only be described as a battlefield, serving for training new students, or more importantly, the "X-Men."

   It wasn't until after listening to Raven's speech, which he gladly ignored, that Peter was finally able to run. Peter had spent a week, a very long and slow week, in a cast. While that didn't sound very bad, it felt like hell to Peter, a very boring hell might he add. And if that wasn't enough, his leg still felt like shit, but it's not like he'll ever admit it.  _He_ _has a reputation to keep, thank you very much._  So here he was, running and weaving past fallen debris of sentinels, ( _God knows how Hank got his hands on those)_  and moving ( _yes moving_ ) his fellow teammates out of harm's way.

   Time slowed for everyone and to Peter, that felt _great!_ To _feel_  the rush of the wind on his face, to _see_  everybody freeze was amazing, not to mention the bright, pretty beam of red light that was a little **_too_**  close to him. _W_ _ait, what?_  As the situaton finally clicked in his head, Panic flooded within Peter and he did the only thing he could think of. **Stop**.

   A blinding flash appeared before Peter as a searing hot pain erupted on his recently-healed leg. _Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!_  He crashed and rolled on the ground before landing ungracefully on his back. " _Owwww_...," Peter moaned as he lifted himself onto his elbows. Lifting his head, Peter met the worried stares of his team. _Shit, better hurry and get up._ Brushing himself off, Peter rose to his feet. "It's okay guys, I'm alri-" Or at least tried to.

"PETER!"

"Shit, Pete, I'm so sorry-"

"Oh my gosh, is your leg okay?!"

Peter barely felt the various hands and arms help him up until Raven spoke up. "Yea, that's enough training for now."  _What?!_  "Nononono, I'm fine, promise!" Peter strained a smile.  _So much for his pride_. The only response was being pushed towards the door of the elevator. "Go to Hank's lab. Now. He'll meet you up there." Raven's tone held no room for any comments. It was now that Scott spoke up. "Do you need any help go-" Peter cut him off with, "Nah, I can manage," and pushed the button to the main floor.

   The journey to Hank's lab was excruciating and slow and it bored the hell out of Peter.  _Again._  The muttering curses and complants were the only thing accompanying him in the empty hallways, or at least he thought they were empty. 

    "I suggest keeping those words to yourself, there are children here you know." 

    Suprised, Peter tripped on his own feet, (or foot since instead of limping, he was just hopping on one foot), and rushed to meet the polished floorboards. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist and hauled Peter into his feet before he could met his destination. Peter quickly untangled himself from his savior's arms and jerked his head into their direction. " _Jeez, what the **hell**  man, Are you trying to give me a heartatta-"_ 

  Brown met blue .

 Peter was staring right at Erik Lehnsherr. Peter was staring right at his father.  _Well, Fuck._


	2. Does Everyone Know?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who commented feedback on how I did, it meant a lot to me! And sorry for the delay, but here's the next chapter.

    Peter won't deny it, he's made a lot of mistakes in his life. From robbery to shoplifting to somehow join a gang, (Don't ask how, even Peter doesn't know), and for (oh yea) trying to beat Apocalypse. A God, The First Mutant Ever! By himself. Not one of his fondest moments, his leg can speak for its self. But the one he most absolutely, horrorifiyingly, regrets with all his heart, soul, and passion? Yelling at Erik. But it's not because Erik is his dad. ( _Just the thought of telling ruins Peter's chance of sleep._ ) But because the guy can lift an entire stadium, attempted to kill a president, and tried to tear the Earth apart, so of course that makes Peter just a tad bit afraid of him. Just a tad. Man, Peter could already feel his heated glare on him.

 _('Maybe if I kick him under his legs and shove him to the ground, I can-')_ Peter's train of thought is interrupted by a chuckle.  _(Wait, a chuckle?')_

"Well, Hello to you too," Erik smirks at Peter's startled expression. "That was not quite the reaction I hoped to recieve, but I guess I deserved it for scaring you back there."

"Pfft, scared, Ha," Peter laughed. "Of course not, I was just....suprised."

"Well if that's how you act suprised, it makes me wonder how you act when you're scared." Erik smirk falls off his face as he glances at Peter's leg. "But in all seriousness, how is your leg?"

"M-my leg is fine," Peter fidgets under his gaze. "Nothing serious, I-I was just...going to Hank's lab to get a, uh, checkup." Fuck, Peter's only spent about a minute with the guy and he could already feel his nervousness eating away at him.

Erik's still looking at his leg. "It must be a serious checkup then."

"O-oh yea, um, there was a little accident at the, uh, Danger Room, but i-it's fine, nothing to worry about, I don't even feel it!" Peter flashes him a quick smile to hide his nerves. ( _'Please believe me.')_

Erik muses on that for a moment and looks down the hall.

"Hm, as much as I respect your pain tolerence, I don't believe it's  _fine_  for a second." (' _Damn') "_ So I might as well walk you to your destination." Peter felt his heart stop for a moment. 

_ ('Nooo Thank you!') _

"You don't need to, I perfectly capable of walking down a couple of hallways to where ever Hank's geeky lab is." Peter says as he starts to limp-hop. The hallway is silent before Erik speaks up.

"So, you have no idea where you're going, am I right?

_('Oh Crap')_

Erik's footsteps thunder down the quiet hallway as he reaches Peter's side. "Come along then, let's go." Peter sighs in defeat. More silence accompanies them as they turn the corner to, in Peter's words, an endless maze of hallways. ( _'Jeez, how do people live here?"_ ) The silence is starting to bother Peter as he fidgets even more. ( _'Thanks ADHD!')_

Erik is the first to break their silence. "So Peter, I-I would like to apologize.

Peter look at him for a moment until it finally clicks. "For what, my leg?" A nod. "B-but it wasn't your fault, Apocalypse is the one who broke it."

"Still I could have done something sooner.."

Peter couldn't believe this, Erik felt guilty for what Apocalypse did? That's not right.

"You don't have to apologize for that, with the account of my actions, it was bound to happen, and everyone else knew the price that they were paying when we stood up to Apocalypse." Peter stops his speech to pat Erik's shoulder. "So don't feel guilty, it wasn't your fault." Erik stayed silent and that's when Peter knew the topic was over. ( _'Time to start another one'_ )

"So, you planning on staying here for a while or leaving?" Peter looks over at Erik.

Erik ponders for a moment. "To tell you the truth, I don't quite now yet."

"Well, I think you should stay." Erik looks at him curiously so Peter quickly adds, "I mean, you could help the Professor a lot by doing that, 'cause I'm sure watching over 20 or 30 kids isn't easy."

Erik chuckles. "Yes, I think you're right, watching over that many children isn't easy." The chuckling dies. "I'll think about it."

( _Well, that ends another topic, time to start a new one before I die of boredom')_  Peter thinks as he feels his patience running thin. But for the meantime, since Erik shared something that bothered him, he should also, right?

( _'Oh boy, here we go'_ )

"Um, Erik, I-I have something to, uh, tell you" Crap, this was harder than he thought. He could feel Erik shift his gaze towards him. Now he has his full attention.

Peter was at a lost for words on how to continue. ( _'How can I put this'_ ) Peter ran a hand through his hair. ( _'Saying "Oh, by the way, I'm your son, doesn't exactly sound as simple as I thought.'_ ) Pushing past his doubts, Peter finally found his words.

"Um, well you see, uh, I'm-"

"Peter, it's about time you came," Hank's voice so **_rudely_**  interrupted. "Did you get lost on the way here?" He questions Peter, who at the moment, wishes he could burn Hank with his glare.

( _'Thanks a lot Hanks, I totally didn't have anything important to say.')_

"Well, it seems we've arrived, but you were saying, Peter?" Erik says as he's about to leave.

"Nevermind, it was nothing," Peter hops inside the open door to Hank's lab. "Thanks for walking me here though." Erik nods and leaves as soon as he arrives.

 _('Well, that went smoothly.'_ )  
\------

"Charles!"

  The Professor looks behind him to see his adopted sister heading his way. "Yes Raven, what seems to be the problem?"

Raven shakes her head. "Nothing really, an accident occured." Charles raises an eyebrow. "Scott accidentally grazed Peter's leg."

That didn't sound like nothing. "Is he alright?"

  Raven rolls her eyes. "Don't worry, I sent him to go get treated by Hank, he's in good hands. I just ended the training early, because without Peter, there's no sense in training a team with one teammate missing."

  "Good call Raven, but please excuse me, I would like to check up on him as soon as possible." 

  The two part ways and Charles heads toward Hank's lab. Since all the younger students were outside, Charles was finally able to get a rare sense of peace, but that didn't calm the growing guilt of what happened today. It hasn't even been a week and already one of his student got hurt. ( _'I swear, if I had hair, it would turn grey within a month from all the worry these children give me.'_ ) Charles grinned at the thought and would have laughed too, if it wasn't for the familiar presence in the back of his mind. Something very familiar. ( _'Erik?'_ )

  "Erik, what are you still doing here, were you not just about to leave?"Charles stops and stares at his longtime friend, who happened to be walking down the same hallway. Erik perks up at his name and heads over to his old friend.

  "I was, but I found Peter roaming the halls and I decided to help him." Erik continues with a worried tone. "But do you mind checking on the boy, he seems.....rather nervous."

 Nervous? That doesn't sound like Peter at all.

  "Of course, I was just headed there now." Charles wheeled himself down the halls once again, but stops as he remembers something. "Oh and if you don't mind, can you monitor the younger children outside, I never let them out without adult supervision." Without waiting for an answer, Charles continues once again towards Hank's lab.

_'I think you should stay, I mean, you could help the Professor a lot by doing that, 'cause I'm sure watching over 20 or 30 kids isn't easy.'_

  With a sigh, Erik makes his way towards the giant lot of land outside and greets Jean and her group of friends on his way there.  
\-------  
  "Hank, do you mind opening the door." Charles says with annoyance. He's been knocking for a minute now and still hadn't received a response. Sounds of papers scattering and glass breaking seeps though the door as it flies open, revealing a flustered Hank.

"I am so sorry Professor, I've been trying to treat Peter's leg, but he's being **_real_** stubborn about it."

**_"Am not!"_ **

( _'He sounds fine, perhaps Erik was wrong.'_ )

"It's quite alright Hank, but if you don't mind letting me in, I have something to talk to Peter about." As Hank moves aside to let the Professor in, Charles is meet with a strong sense of emotion in the back of his head.

" **Professor** , are you alright?" Charles shakes his head. "I'm alright, I just got a sense of some-" Charles stops speaking and looks up at Peter. The speedster locks eyes with him before sighing.

"Sorry." He hears Peter mumble.

( _'Erik was right, something is wrong him')_

"Peter, Is something bothering you?" Charles wheels himself over to Peter. The only response Charles receives is an angry stare.

"Sure, I'm _fucking **peachy**_ , _why wouldn't I be!_ " Peter rambles and shoots a glare at Hank. "Except _this_ guy just ruined my chance to tell Erik!"

This catches the Professor's attention.

"To tell Erik what now?"

Peter stops ranting and starts to realize what he's done. ( _'Crap, he wasn't supposed to know.')_  He looks to Hank for support, but all he get is the "Just-tell-him" look.

Peter sighs and moves slightly away from Charles. "Well Professor, if anyone were supposed to know, it would be you, but, I mean, about half the school knows already by now. Heck, I'm suprised Raven hasn't told Erik yet, since she's already told Hank and Kurt _and Ororo_ , I mean, why not just tell the whole world. At least Ororo and Kurt haven't told anyone yet, but they might since they're getting pretty close to Jean and the others. But what I don't get is-"

"Peter!" Peter cringes at the tone. _('Shit, I thought that would work')_

"Peter, just tell me what bothering you."

Peter scratches the back of his head. "Let me just tell you now Professor, you're going to get a kick out of this." Charles gives him a look and in the meek, tiny voice he never knew he had, Peter tells him.

 "Erik is my father."


	3. Do You See The Similarities?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make a chapter about the new "X-Men" team so here it is!

   The sun shines on the acres of land, bringing forth warm rays and a peaceful day. The grass sways with the gentle wind as the smell of rich dirt lingers in the air. The sounds of children echo from the flat plains nearby to the trees and their shelter of leaves. It truly was a beautiful day...

"Are you serious?"

But not anymore.

 A "Shush, or he'll hear you." comes a second later, along with a small " _Smack!_ " sound.

   After having a bounty on his head for most of his life, Erik got used to looking behind his shoulder, and noticing the small group a few feet away from him was child's play. He could have easily blown their cover, but to be honest with himself, he just wanted to see how far they could go. It's not everyday you see a group of teenagers think they could sneak up on a former, wanted terrorist. No matter how quiet or stealthy they tried to be, Jean, Scott, Kurt, and Ororo just couldn"t stand still. And that alone made Erik want to laugh.

   But all good things must come to an end. Or, in Erik's case, all _annoying_ things must come to an end.

  The "X-Men's" tatics might be funny for a few minutes, but after ten minutes, all that whispering was starting dampen the peaceful day.

  "So, are you going to keep standing there and look at me all day," Erik addresses the group. "Or are you going to come out and talk to me like a sophisticated person would?"

 At first, nothing happened.

  But a moment later, movement alerted Erk of the groups' location. While Ororo and Scott timidly walked out from behind a pillar, Kurt and a blushing Jean stayed behind. Both Ororo and Scott didn't seem to knownwhat to say, so Jean said something for them.

 "I-um, we were just, uh, watching the scenery? Jean glanced around her for support.

  Scott stepped forward."Uh, yea, it's just such a beautiful day, and we all needed a relaxing day, cause you know after the Apocalypse thing..." Scott continued to drone on with reasons that Erik had no time nor patience to listen to. 

  "Well, if you call whispering and hiding behind a pillar relaxing, then you might need to clarify what that accually is." This caused all the the teenagers to widen their eyes. _They got caught._

  One by one, Jean, Ororo, Scott, and Kurt attempted to open the door for their escape until Kurt grabbed all of his friends and whisked them to God-knows-where.

  With that distraction gone, Erik turned back to look at the vast land. It was so bright, so rich in wildlife and plantlife alike. Erik gripped the small locket around his neck. 

His Nina would have loved it here... 

\-----

  "A-are you sure," Charles head spun. "It could have been another man or a medical mistake or-"

 Peter cut him off. "No, my mom has pictures of them together and she said he's the only person she was with, and you know, done the thing-"

 Charles waved him off. "I know what that is." 

  The telepath rested his hand on his chin in a thoughtful pose and pondered on this. Erik was a father before he even knew it? How much trouble that would have saved for all of them. Erik may have been on a  ** _darker_**  path back then, but he would have rejoiced in the fact that he had a  _family_ that was  _alive._

 "Alright, you're free." Hank had finished bandaging Peter's leg at the time Charles was musing over this. "Let me warn you first, your leg will be sore for a few days, but with you fast healing, it should be good within half that time, and also- _**Hey**_ , **_get back here, I'm not done explaining yet!"_**

  Hank's words only reached to empty air as Peter was already speed-hopping down the hallway. "Sorry Blue, can't hear you, too busy walk-hopping over here!" Peter yelled before stopping and turning to face Charles. "And Professor, can you _please_  not tell Erik about our little family tree? 'Cause if anyone is going to tell him, it's me." 

With that, Peter was gone. 

\------

 "I think their noses look the same."

"Really? I say the eyes."

"Pfft! The eyes! No, it's totally the noses." 

"Eyes? Nose? Nonono! Let's think outside the box here." A pause. "It's the cheek bones." 

  Jean had pulled away from her binoculars and playfully smacked Scott on the head just as Peter passed by. 

"Um, what's going on here?" Peter limped over to where his teammates were currently holed up in one of the many living rooms in the mansion.  The group snapped their heads up at the sound of his voice. 

"Oh, hey Pete, how's the leg?" Scott stood up and rubbed the back of his head. "Again, I'm so sorry for what happened." 

 Peter snorted. "Dude calm down, I'm fine." He lifted his bandadge leg and showed it off. "See?" 

  While Scott considered that, Jean pushed him aside and waved him over. "Do you want to join us?" 

Peter cocked an eyebrow. "Join what?" 

"Join their little scouting session, if it can be called that." Startled, Peter grabbed Jean's binoculars and threw them at the voice. 

 Raven caught them with ease, set down her book and the binoculars, and smiled at Peter. "Good throw."

 Peter blinked. "Thanks? But, uh, what about a scouting session?" 

  Ororo piped up from beside Jean. "We're looking for similarities between you and Erik." 

(' _Wait, what now?'_ ) 

  Peter shook out of his stuper and snatched the binoculars out of everyone else's hands, ignoring the protest of those around him. "No, you can't do that!" 

 Puzzled, Jean looked at him."What, it's not like we're doing anything wrong, plus Ororo already told us about your relations to him, so we won't do anything to act suspicious." Jean silenced Peter with a hand when he tried to interrupt. "Calm down, he hasn't moved at all since we've been here, so he most likely doesn't have a clue on what we're doing." 

 " _ **What!**_ Ororo why did you- Peter facepalmed. "Fine, you know what, nevermind that. But that doesn't give you an excuse to just stare at someone all day, including if that someone happens to be Erik." Peter stopped as something hit him. "Wait, how long have you been doing.. _this?_ " 

  Kurt looked up from his book next to Raven. "Ten minutes maybe?" 

( _'Ten minutes? That's not so bad.')_

   Scott sat back down on his perch on the window. "No, I'd say about thirty minutes." 

  Peter stared at Scott and slowly moved out of sight of the large window. "Th-thirty minutes.....you've been spying on a former wanted terrorist, for _thirty minutes?_ " 

  Everyone looked up at him and shared the same thought. (' _Where was he going with this?_ ') Spying on a former wanted terrorist? Why was that a problem? That was in the past. What did that have to do with anything? It's not like Erik....knew? Right? Then it clicked. What did Jean say again?

".. _He_ _hasn't moved at all since we've been here..."_

_Erik knew they were spying on them._

 The three teenagers by the window paled and moved away. Raven and Kurt quickly snapped their books up and covered their faces. Their reaction gave Peter his answer. 

  No one moved from their spots to what felt like hours. Or an eternity to Peter. 

  With patience running thin and his tapping foot burning a hole into the carpet, Peter pouted and rushed over to the door. 

( _'I can't stand here all day, plus it wasn't me who was spying.')_

 "Woah, what do you think you're doing!" Scott whispered hoarsely at him as he opened the door.

 Peter replied, "Burning off some steam," and closed the door with a little **_too_** much energy.


	4. Do You See The Similarities? Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up from the end of the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I took a while to update. I planned on posting this yesterday (a.k.a. Father's day) but I happened to be busy. So, I decided to post it today. Again, sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy reading this chapter.

 

 

  The light breeze ruffled Peter's silver hair as he swiftly rushed towards the stone steps, muttering a quick greeting to Erik on the way. His legs and arms shivered with bottled-up energy, while his mind became frazzled with impatience. Wanting to stretch his legs and loosen his arms- ('and most importantly, run!')-, Peter bounded down the steps with excitement. But before he was able to make it to the last step, Peter was yanked back.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Erik said, holding a death grip on his arm. "You leg has just been bandaged, it would unwise to make it worst."

   Peter pouted and attempted to free his arm. He just had to run, he just had to! His leg may be injured but that doesn't mean he's glued to the ground. He can't stand one more second with nothing to do! 

  "Awww, c'mon man! It's just a light jog! Please, please, please with magnets on top." 

  "No." 

  "But I'm so _bored_ and it's fun out here, plus my leg is _killing_  me." Erik puts a hand on Peter's shoulder and forces him to sit, his hand locking onto Peter's arm like a handcuff. 

  "No Peter, the wound on your leg is delicate and needs rest." 

  "Hey! I call bullshit, _b_ _ullshit,_  I tell you! I'm not some fucking, fragile piece of glass. _And_  you can't tell me what to do, I'm a grown man!" Peter attempted to get up, but was forced back down by Erik. ( _'Dear lord, this man has a mean grip!')_ After struggling to break free of Erik's suprisingly strong hold, Peter slumped over with defeat.

 "Come on! Let me run! Let me go! Nothing's gonna-" Erik slaps a hand over his mouth. 

  "No, your leg needs to- STOP THAT!" Erik yanks his hand away and wipes the saliva off. Peter holds in a laugh, but ultimately fails, as he rolls on his back with tears streaming down his face. 

  "Haha, yes, that was very funny." Erik voice drips with sarcasm as he tries to speak over the hoots of laughter coming from the speedster next to him. "That wasn't childish at all." Hearing this, Peter starts to compose himself. 

  "What? It was your fault." Peter shrugs and glances at the window behind them. "Oh, by the way, Have you said "Hi" to your little fanclub yet?" 

  Erik follows his gaze. "Not yet, but I wasn't planning too. Your teammates aren't the best at spying.."

  Peter scoffs and leans back on the cold stone floor. "Yeah.."

  Suddenly, Peter frowns and looks up. "So, can I go now or are you gonna make me sit here in boredom for the rest of my life."

  Erik goes silent, so Peter takes that as a no. ( _'Great, now what am I going to do._ ') With no options to ease his boredom, all Peter is left with is his thoughts. 

  All Peter really came out here to do was run (' _Which apparently he's not allowed to do._ '). Now he was having a conversation with his father. How fast things took a turn. (' _But I bet the others are having a jolly good tme watching this_.') But he couldn't blame his friends. This was Peter's first conversation with Erik that didn't end up with him feeling like he was going throw up. Which was saying a lot when your sitting next to the man who helped create you.

  ( _'So far, so good?_ ') 

  Peter sighs and stares at the sky. The sun is beginning to set, meaning that everyone will start to come inside soon. Erik continues to supervise the younger kids for Charles while Peter lies down for a better view of the sunset above, since he's apparently being babysat. Which was _boring_! Seriously, he's a grown adult! There was no need for Erik to treat him like a child! Sure, Peter loved to prank the students every once in a while and steal everyone's twinkies when they're not looking, but that doesn't mean he was "childish".... (' _Huh, maybe I should rethink that_..') Peter mused.

  But a question pooped in Peter's head, and it was enough to make the speed demon snap away from his previous thought. Fidgeting with nervousness, Peter fumbled with his thumbs while a certain question was starting to bounce around in his head. 

(' _Is it a good time to tell him now?'_ ) 

  Damn, Peter could already feel his nerves getting worse. But maybe he should tell Erik now. Nothing's happening, so what's stopping him? Well, other than the fact that he's thinking of a million different outcomes-( thanks to his fast-paced mind)- in which none of the situatons ended well. Especially one with that ended with him being impaled. Wait, maybe he's being too paranoid about this. Shaking his head, Peter elected to ignore his dark thoughts, but another popped in his head.(' _D_ _o I have the balls to?_ ') He decided to ignore that too, since he felt his manhood was being threatened. 

  Taking a deep breath, Peter throws a glance at Erik beside him. He probably should, shouldn't he? It would be better for Peter-(and his nerves.)-if he just told Erik, told him that he's his son. Then jump of a tall building or something. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.

  Peter sits ups and opens his mouth. His mind goes blank as his doubts start growing, but he can't think about that now. He has to at least try. Peter turns to face Erik. 

  ( _'Here we go...again.'_ ) 

  Then he freezes. He sees something. Something....shiny. And it sets off alarms in Peter's head.

  Erik was holding a small locket is his hands, his fingers caressing the tiny surface. But that's not what made Peter stop. It was the tear that fell down Erik's face. 

  Seeing the metal-bender in such a state made Peter rethink his decision. The man had just lost his entire family not too long ago; beside Peter of course. It wouldn't be right, feel right, too just dump a life-changing secret onto the guy. Erik deserves time to grieve. Wether Peter had the patience to or not.

  Peter must have been staring for longer than he realized, because Erik looked up and whisked away the locket from view before he had a chance to comprehend what just happened. "Sorry about that." Erik rubbed his eyes, attempting to cover up his moment of breakdown as it never happened. "It's nothing to worry about-"

  "Did you love them?" 

  The question caught Erik off guard. "Yes....very much."

  Peter looked at him as if to say "Keep going."

  "It was after I attempted to...kill the president, that I chose to flee to Poland; I wanted to start over I guess. Magda...was the only one who knew of my past after I changed my identity, and she didn't care for that at all! She believed that I was a good man with very different...ideals, but a good man nontheless." Erik smiled. "Then Nina came....and I started to believe that." The smile fell and Erik's eyes hardened. "But now they're gone and I have nothing left except the people that I have here." 

  Peter felt guilt flood seize. He saw what happened when he ran to that house in Poland, what was left. He saw all the blood and the bodies that littered the ground. ( _'If only I'd been a little faster, if only I could have saved them, Erik wouldn't be so...broken_.') 

  "Who's locket was that?" Peter gestured to the silver chain in Erik's hand. 

  Erik fumbled with it as he held it out for Peter to see. "It belongs to my daughter, Nina." He flipped the locket open to reveal two small faces; A woman with dark hair on the left, and an unfamiliar face of a man on the right. "I gave her this locket to remind her that, no matter where we are, we'll always be her home." 

  Peter smiled at those last words while Erik put the locket away.

  Man, Erik sure did love them a lot. It made Peter wonder..What were they like? How old were they? What was their favorite colors? Did they like Twinkies? Did they- 

  (' _Alright children, it's time to come inside. It's getting late_.') 

  " _JESUS!_ " Peter yelled at no one in particular and put a hand where his heart would be. "Is he _trying_  to give me a fucking heartatt ack!" 

  Erik laughs and stands up off the stone steps in one swift movement. He lends Peter a hand, but is rejected with an "I-got-this" face. With determination, Peter hobbles on his one good leg and, with a little effort, stands and starts to head to the door.

  "Well, good talk Erik." Peter says before he opens the large, wooden doors to the mansion. "And thanks for telling me about...your family." 

  Erik nods at him and looks back towards the large, open area, searching for any stray students who had yet to head inside. Peter takes this as is cue to leave.

  Swinging the door open, Peter waltz into the room where his teammates were playing "spy" or, as he called it, stalking. Maybe both. "So guys, it's getting late and I think we should- um...okay, what are you doing?" Peter blinked.

   He must walked into an interrigation room, since what met him now made him feel pretty...intimidated. Especially with everyone looking at him like he was the most interesting person on the planet.

   Jean, Scott, Kurt, and Ororo smiled sweetly at him from their places on the couch, each of them with expressions of excitement on their faces. Even Raven looked giddy from her spot on the armchair next to them. 

  (' _Oh, I know what this is about_.')

 " _So_ , how did it go?" Jean urged forward in her seat.

  Peter snorted. "You should already know, you stalkers.

~~~~~

  When you run as fast as Peter, everything you do begins to follow your pace. Like winning a race or stealing a car. And it's not only just the things you do every now and then that are fast, it's the stuff you do daily too. So eating is a blur and trying to sleep is even worse. That's why Peter found it no suprise when he wakes up in the middle of the night. 

  He had just came from the kitchen, hoarding food for breakfast in the morning- ('Seriously, getting breakfast here is like fighting in a war.')- when he heard whispering coming from the Professor's office. (' _Huh, why would the Professor be up at this hour?_ ')   Ever so softly, Peter crept closer to the doors of the office.

  "-then Stryker came and took them, and put them in some sort of chamber. Raven says that her powers were..disabled somehow." Peter heard the Professor's voice. 

  "Perhaps Stryker used some sort of serium or weapon to-" Okay, and that's Erik.

  "No no no, she said it was the chamber itself, she described it having green lights." 

  "Lights? That's new." 

  ( _'They must be talking about the time Stryker kidnapped me and the others_.') Peter put the pieces together. Man, that was some day... 

  "Not only that, but Stryker got away, so it might not be long before he shows up again."

  "I agree." 

  Silence occupied the room, along with shuffling. Peter frowned at the lack of words. (' _Are they done talking._ ') He was just getting ready to leave when he heard Charles speak again.

  "Erik, I would like to thank you for agreeing to stay here, it means a lot that you'll be here to help." 

  "Of course, where else would I be. This is as much my home as it is the children's." 

  Charles chuckled. "Speaking of children, Is see you're getting along with a certain speedster." 

  Oh, now _that_ had Peter's attention. He drew himself closer to the doors, using the space in between to catch a view of the two older men. Holding his breath, Peter waited for Erik's response.

  "You mean Peter?" Erik looked up from their chess game to Charles. "Do you really think so?" 

  The Professor smiled and moved one of his chesss piece. "Of course, I'd have to be blind not to see that." 

  Erik smirked and took a sip from a glass next to him, the silver locket from earlier dangling from his neck. Peter and Charles stared at it. The Professor cast a worried glance at his dear friend. 

  "How are you holding up Erik? If you don't mind me asking, it just-it must be hard.... to lose your wife and daughter that way... but please, my friend, just tell me how you are _doing_! You haven't said a word to me about your family and I can just _sense_ something's wrong." The Professor's tone pleaded. 

  Charles and a hiding Peter unknowingly held their breath as they waited for an answer. Seconds passed and still no response. Then, the seconds turned to minutes and still, nothing. Erik had long ago given up their game of chess and had given his attention to the window displaying the night sky outside. He didn't make a sound or movement to acknowledge hearing Charles' question. The telepath tried again.

  "Erik- _SLAM_!

  " _I heard you, Charles!_ " Erik snapped his head towards his friend, tears in his eyes threatening to spill. " _How do you think I **feel**! I lost my **entire family** , everyone I love! I have no one **left**! They're all dead! Nina, Magda, my parents, **all dead**!_ " The tears fell. " _So, tell me old friend. How do you think I **feel**!_ "

  The shouting stopped and a hush echoed the halls of the school. Peter felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. Damn, he felt like an ass and he didn't even know why! (' _I wonder how the Professor feels about this_.') He looked at Charles, who looked speechless at first, held an expression of sympathy. 

  "You're right Erik, I don't know how you feel. And I would never look into your head without permission to see. But, you haven't lost everything entirely, my friend. You have me, Raven, Hank, and everyone that lives here. You have more family than you realize."

  (' _Wait, did he just make a reference at ME!_ ') 

  Charles shot a glance at the doors, looking straight at Peter, as if answering his question. Crap, did he know Peter was here this whole time? 

  Erik wiped his face and sighed into his hands. "I know that Charles, of course I know that. But Magda was my wife, Nina was my daughter, and I felt like I had such a short time to spend with them. And you already know about my parents..." Charles nodded. "Not to say I don't appreciate and love everyone here, but it's not the same as having a family to come home everyday or parents to take care and love you. It makes you feel alone." 

  The Professor smiled. "I understand Erik, but maybe....you're not as alone as you think." 

  Both Peter and Erik snapped their heads at Charles' choice of words. Was this man about to break his promise? (' _Uhhh, Professor, what are you doing? I know you can hear me dammit! Are you seriously about to break our promise!_ "') Peter glared at the accused man, who had just raised a hand to his temple. 

  (' _Stand down Peter, I'm not telling him. I'm merly hinting it._ ') The echoed voice the Professor replied.

  Peter snorted quietly. (' _Hinting my ass. Just tell him my life story while you're at it, Professor._ ') This earned him a smirk from Charles.

  Meanwhile, Erik had a very puzzled expression on his face. You're not alone as you realize? Did his old friend hit his head during the war? He had no family except the people he had here. But, nevermind that, he'll save that for later. Erik gripped the locket around his neck. 

  "Well, old friend, I think we should call it a night. This particular...talk has spoiled my mood for chess." Erik got up from his seat on the chair and made his way towards the doors.

  (' _Shit!_ ') In a panic, Peter stumbled away from the doorway before zipping to his dorm in less than a second. Closing the door his bare room -which he plans to decorate later- and dropping his stash of snacks on the floor, the speedster dropped onto his bed with a ' _Plop!_ ' Breathing in a sigh of relief, Peter closed his eyes. Man, what a day.


	5. No Rest For The Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stryker had flown the coop after Logan went on a rampage at his facility; his prisoners using this distraction to flee. But just before the mutant escaped, Stryker took a vial of blood from each and found something interesting on one of them. Now he plans to use this new information to repay his superiors for the weapons they gave him. But as this is favorable in his favor, it's not so much for his escapees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this chapter was fun to write-(all of them are, actually)- I felt like this one was an important one , since for me, this helps move along the future conflict in the story. (Hint, hint.) But just to help this chapter in case of any confusion.
> 
> -Stryker has another base in case of one his facilities is destroyed.
> 
> -The weapons Stryker used to knock out all the mutants at the mansion during Apocalypse was given to him in a deal with the government. (The chapter mentions this a lot.)
> 
> -Stryker inherited all of Trask's work.
> 
> -Stryker is good at guessing, since he know someone's secret thanks to the help of DNA and some great memory.
> 
> -And, long ago, Trask was somehow able to get some of Magneto's blood, but not without a cost.
> 
> Ok, now that that's done, I hope you enjoy and please give feedback on how I did. And if you have any questions on the story-(this is my first fanfic after all)- ask and I'll answer. Thanks!

 

_Thwip-thwip-thwip-thwip._

  The sound of helicopter blades slice through the air as a bulky, gray shape makes its' way over the tree tops of the vast forest. Animals scurried for shelter at the menacing mechanisim and the leaves of nearby plants whirled in the direction of the wind made by the helicopter. As the chopper began to accelerate downwards for landing, a stone building popped into view. The aircraft landed ungracefully on the soft forest floor.

  A man exited the helicopter, wearing a camoflage uniform with the name "Stryker" stitched onto the top right of his attire. An expression of weariness and anger was displayed on his face as he carried a small briefcase in his hand.

  The large, metal doors of the stone building flew open and the man was immediately met with a horde of soldiers, each of them looking anxious. Stryker pointly ignored their stares, squared his shoulders, and walked past his men. The doors shut behind them all when they entered the building.

  After walking through endless corridors and hallways, Stryker stopped at the doors to an office and stepped inside. It was as he sat down behind the desk did his men begin to bombard him with questions.

  "Sir, what happened?"

  "Did the mission fail?"

  "Is it true everybody died?"

  "What happened to the mutan-"

  " _Shut up, all of you!_ " The major snapped, irritation clear on his face. "Yes, the mission failed. Not only did all the mutants escape, but I was also unable to deprive any information on the whereabouts of Charles Xavier during that time." A sigh. "And it doesn't help that the government wants my ass for that..."

  A voice pipped up from the group. "You said all the mutants escaped, does that mean-"

  "Yes, _Weapon X_ , unfortunately, somehow broke free of his prison and escaped." Stryker looked at his men. "But not before slaying everyone in the facility. I was smart enough to realize the outcome of this and made my leave."

  A silence echoed the halls outside the office and Stryker took this moment to rummage through his desk. His men stayed where they were, watching their boss, before he yelled out, " _If you don't have any business here, I advise you to leave my office before I kick all of your asses **out**!_ "

  The horde dissolved immediately at the tone and all the soldiers ran back to their stations, leaving only one man, standing idol. It was quiet for a few moments until the man spoke.

  "Sir, speaking for the future of our...opperations, what are we going to do about the deal with the U.S. government?"

  Stryker continued to search through his desk as he answered. "Well, the deal was to find out the whereabouts of the Professor at that time- to find out the location of Apocalypse- in exchange for the weapons they they gave us. But, as you heard before, that failed, and now they want my ass for that."

  The man pondered on this for a moment as Stryker, scavenging through his desk, began to mutter profanities.

  A lightbulb popped in the man's head. "Is it possible to offer the higher ups something _else_ in exchange for the weapons?"

  Stryker rose from his desk, as he had found what he needed, and smirked at his second-in-command. "I already have something in mind." He grabbed the small briefcase from earlier and opened it, revealing three vials of blood. Stryker carefully picked one up and showed it to his lieutenant. The man's eyes scanned over the vial, frowning when he didn't understand.

  "Um... I'm sorry sir, I don't understand what vials of blood have to do with paying back the government."

  Stryker grinned and put the vial back in its' case. "It has _everything_ to do with it." The major laughed softly. "You didn't think I held _mutants_ in a chamber just for the government, _did you?_ Of course not, I had an oppertunity and I took it." Stryker patted the briefcase.

  Realization dawned on his lieutenants' face. "Oh..But what about-" He was interrupted as the case was shoved into his arms. Flabbergasted, the lieutenant looked to his superior.

  "No more questions, I need you to take those to the lab and gather everything you can on them." Stryker said as he wave his lieutenant off. "Go now, I have business to attend to."

  Without another word, the soldier dashed off with his delivery. Stryker dug into his pockets and retrieved what he had so hastily looked for in his desk, a keycard. Walking out of his office, he calmy made his way towards another pair of heavy doors and swiped the keycard on a lock to gain access to enter. The ginormous doors slid open, revealing a storage room full of littered sentinel parts and blueprints of all kinds. Sighing, Stryker stepped inside and admired his treasures.

  "You may be gone, Trask," he mumbled to his mentor. "But that doesn't mean I don't have all of your toys."

~~~~~~~

  Extracted and processing DNA was a very diligent process, so it suprised Stryker when a folder was given to him in his office of the blood sample results. He'd only given the blood to the lab a few hours ago, and somehow, his men were able to give him the results in not even half the time. The folder consisted of blood types, diseases, sex, and a bunch of other information Stryker didn't care to read over.

  Scanning the sheets of paper with precise precision, the major stumbled upon a _very_ _familier_ DNA structure. It was moments like these that Stryker was grateful to have worked with Trask for so long, despite the man's arrogance.

  " _You!_ " Stryker pointed at a soldier. "Tell the lab to run this through the system." he ordered and gestured to a sheet from the folder. "And give me the results as soon as possible."

  To be truthful, it didn't matter to Stryker what showed up on the results, he already knew. Inheriting all of Trasks' toys didn't just mean the blueprints and weaponary lying around, it meant all the information and experiment result of the mutants Trask somehow got his hands on. Including Magneto. Which, to this day, Stryker has no idea how his mentor was even able to get his hands on the man, and he _certainly_ didn't know how he was able to hold Magneto long enough for a simple blood test. And yes, he did say _long enough,_ as in for a short amount of time.The pile of destruction Magento left spoke for itself on what had occurred.

  And speaking of Magneto...

  Closing his door to his office, Stryker picked up the phone hooked onto his desk and dialed. It only took a few seconds for the person on the other end to pick up.

  " _Major_." A feminine voice spoke sternly.

  "Hello, Ms.-"

  " _Cut the greeting, you know we aren't happy with you at the moment._ "

  Stryker smiled. "I know, but I think I can make it up to you. You remember Magneto, correct?"

  The voice hesitated." _...Yes, but why is this important? He's gone off the grid_ _ **again**._ **_T_ _he_** __ _ **bastard!**_ "

  "So am I correct in thinking that you have high interest in him?"

  " _Who doesn't. Almost everyone's looking for that terrorist, but after the whole "Apocalypse Incident", some have given up the chase for him. Why do you ask? Have you found him?_ "

  "Well, not quite..."

  " _But you have something._ " The voice implied.

  "Yes, I do. It's a _wild_ guess, but I'm positive I'm right." 

  "I _don't like guesses, Major._ " A pause. " _But continue._ "

  Stryker glanced at the sheet he previously asked the lab to dig deeper into. "I hope this information makes us even, yes?" 

  " _If it has something to do directly with Magneto, then yes_."

  Stryker smirked at the answer and got straight to the point. "My guess is that Magneto has more family than we knew of, and no I'm not speaking of the wife and daughter in Poland, I mean someone else." 

  Silence came from the other end, so Stryker continued. "I'll let you have 'em, do whatever you want with them. But I want more blood samples, info on what they can do and what makes them _tick_. Do we have a deal?" 

  There was still no response for a couple of moments.

  Finally, the voice replied. " _You have a deal, Major._ " It said with a hint of sadistic glee. " _But I must ask, how is Magneto related to this person_?"

  Stryker lifted the sheet of paper. "Father and son." He answered. "I'll have everything on the son sent to you in a day." 

  "Thank you, Major. You've done your country well _._ " The woman said before hanging up. She smiled at the news she'd just received. " _Finally_ , after years of searching, I finally have something to draw you out, Magento..."


	6. These Aren't Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and his team are haunted by nightmares and even though the Professor keeps saying they're fine, they know that's not true. So they decide to hold a group therapy session to solve their problem.

 

 

 

  Peter won't lie when he says he been counting the days since his " _father-son_ " talk with Erik. A week to be more precise. A very, _measly_ , week since Peter's _heard_ from Erik, _seen_ him in the mansion halls, or _talked_  to him. _A **WEEK**_ , since their very sad, _very deep_ conversation about the metal-bender's family. But it's been for good reasons of course. With co-running a school and watching the students- or in Peter's words, " _little demons_ "- that inhabit the mansion, it's no wonder Erik's face hasn't popped up around the corner, like Peter usually expects him to. He doesn't even care if Erik almost gives him a _heartattack_ again, he just needs to _see_ him. Just in case his dad's not dead or kidnapped. Not that he's _worried_ or anything...  

  Or maybe he is.  

  Peter fidgets in his bed as the thought of a dead Erik becomes more graphic. (' _No stop.'_ ) Peter mentally scolds himself.(' _Nothing's wrong, he's fine, everyone's fine, no one's dead. Erik's just busy with work, that's the only reason you haven't seen him. He's **not** bleeding to death, he's **not** being strangled and gasping for air, he's **not** being buried alive with broken limbs, he's **not** -')_

  The bedroom shakes for a moment and Peter remembers to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He scared Jean again. For the third time this week. (And for the millionth time this week, Peter wonders why him and his friends haven't seen a _therapist_ by now.')

  Charles always tells them that they don't have PTSD, that everything's _fine_. He says _they're fine_ , that the whole nightmare thing is "a method of coping" and keeps telling everyone how it's " _normal_ ", especially after what they've been through. But how can he explain the _terrors_ that haunts Peter and the rest of the X-Men? How can he explain the _screaming_ that happens almost every night and the _earthquakes_ that follows and shakes the whole manson? _How can he!_ The Professor is a **_telepath_** for _fuck's sake_ , he should know what they see in their dreams!

  And they're not a walk in the park!  

  Scott dreams of his brother, Alex, with smoking flesh and scorched skin; the fire slowly causing the limbs to burn off of his body. He dreams of Alex's tortured cries and pleas, yelling for someone to save him, but Scott can't move and his only option is to stand and watch as his brother, his idol, die and sink into the flames surrounding them both. Scott wakes up crying and screaming, mimicking the same volume as his brother in his nightmares.

  Ororo dreams of all the poor choices she's made when she was a horsemen of Apocalypse. She sees all the lives she's taken; all the lives _Apocalypse_ has taken. She sees the cities she helped destroy and hears the screams of all the people that fell with it. She too, wakes up crying, and yells out apologies to the all the people that perished by her hands.

  Kurt dreams of his days in the circus; an angel with metal wings as the ring leader. He dreams of the bruises collecting on the skins of his fellow performers as the leather whip comes down on them, breaking their bones and littering the floor with fresh blood. _Like paint._ He wakes up gasping for air and clinging onto certain body parts he's sure are broken.

  Peter's nightmares aren't any better.

  Peter dreams of a child cradled in her mother's arms, both of them falling to the ground with lifeless eyes and limp arms. He sees the arrow fly through the air and meet its' target, sprinkling the ground with red. _He feels the blood land on him too_. He sees the men's slit throats and hollow eyes, their bodies laid out in front of Peter. He hears the wailing and crying come from behind him, the words " _Not my girls!_ " make him choke on his own sobs. The voices whispering in his ear keep telling him that it's _his_ fault, that _he_ could have saved them, that _he_ should have been there _faster_. Peter wakes up sobbing into his pillow, the guilt fresh in his heart as he tries to cover his ears to stop the voices that are never there.

  And Jean... she doesn't need the nightmares to make her scream at night. She sees all of theirs instead. Every single one of them. She wakes crying and shaking the entire floor.

  Charles is always there, yanking them out of their nightmares, and telling them that everything's fine and so are they. It helps stop the screaming.

  But at least they're not the ones waking up the whole house. That's Erik's doing.  

  He screeches bloody murder at the dead of night, scaring the children awake and causing the older ones to think someone's dying. Peter just covers his ears whenever Erik does that. He doesn't want to know what Magento dreams, because he already knows. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out when " _MAGDA_!" and " _NINA_!" are the words that echo through the halls. Peter knows it's partly his fault Erik's like that and he doesn't want to hear it anymore!

  So, like a chain reaction, Peter cries with his father.

  Raven is usually the one to go to Erik's rescue, as the Professor is always the one the children go to when the metal-bender screams like that. And that's not a bad thing, since Raven seems like a badass at calming Erik down- in only _five minutes_!

  Yet, Peter did try to help him once- _and only once._ He doesn't think he can do it again. The way he freaked out when he was met with a floating gun pressed up against Erik's head said enough. All he needs to say is that Raven had to calm both father and son down.

  Peter ran a hand through his hair as the tension lifted from his shoulders and was thankful when he didn't hear Jean. That's a win to him.  

 " ** _NINA_!** "

  Nevermind, scratch that, that's not a win.  

  " _ **MAGDA** , DON'T LEAVE ME!_"

  Peter covered his ears the second he heard the names. He didn't _want_ to be reminded that he failed, that he failed _Erik_. No, he didn't-  

 " _PLEASE, **NINA** , PLEASE! ANSWER ME!_"  

  Peter felt something warm and wet run down his face as he pressed his hands harder against his ears. (' _Oh god, where's Raven?_ ') Peter's breath hitched in his throat when the screams didn't stop, like they usually did. "It's okay," Peter told himself. "Raven will help him, he'll be fine, he'll be-"  

  " _STOP IT, STOP IT, **NO-AAAAAGGGHHHH**_!"

   It didn't register to Peter that he'd hopped out of his bed, and it _certainly_ didn't register to him when threw open the door and pushed _Raven_ put of the way. Maybe it was because all he could think about was Erik screaming down the hall and that he just _had_ to help him, and that he couldn't- _wouldn't_ \- let Erik resort back to Magneto after he had just gotten his act straight.

  Especially when Peter _still_ hadn't told the man about his relations to him, though the speedster was working on it.

  It was after limp-running to the doors-or doorway-  of Erik's room did Peter digest where he was. With sweat beading on his forehead, Peter continued in his quest to help his father, despite the growing ache in his still-healing leg. 

  Walking past the metal tornado currently swirling around the bedroom was easy-peasy, but avoiding a nightmare-induced Erik was another problem. Mainly because the metal-bender was throwing punches left and right.

  " _Erik!_ " Peter yelled, reaching the bedside and shaking the man's arm. " _Wake up, it's just a nightmare, **a nightmare!** C'mon man, wake up! I saw what happened! Please, it's not your **fault** , dammit!_"  

  His words apparently did jackshit because Erik had landed a strong punch on Peter's nose, stars filling his vision.

 Shaking away the dizziness out of his head, Peter did the only logical thing he could think of when helping a distressed person.

  He hugged them.

  And it worked. _Suprisingly_.

  Almost instantly, the metal fell out of the air and the screams died away. All that was left was the tiny sobs escaping Erik's lips as he latched onto Peter for dear life.  

 "I'm so sorry, Magda." Erik mumbled through his tears. "I could have saved you, I could have saved you both!" Erik grinded his teeth. "It's my fault, all my fault!"

  Sighing and feeling guilty because it was his fault too, Peter gently detangled himself from Erik's bone-crushing hug and started helping the former terrorist lie down on his side. When he succeded, Erik's first action was to latch onto his pillow, attempting the replace the spot where Peter just was.

  "Well," Peter whispered to himself as he stood up from the side of the bed. "At least he stopped screaming, I guess that's a win."

  Turning to leave, the speedster manuvered his way over the various scraps of metal laying on the bedroom floor, careful not to wake Erik. When he reached the door- or what was left of it- Peter froze as he heard Erik's next words.

 " _Please don't leave me, Magda...I have no one left..._ "  

  Fuck.

  If a heart could physically shatter, then that's what would have happened to Peter's heart.

  Making his way back to Erik's bedside, -despite cringing from his heart breaking-Peter pulled the covers over his estranged father, making sure to tuck in the sides like he did with his younger sister. "You're not as alone as you think." He whispered before finally leaving, ignoring the way Raven was smiling at him like a loon.

  "You say one word about this,"Peter said with vemon in his voice. "And I tell everyone that _Kurt's_ your favorite."

  Raven mearly smiled at the threat given to her and gave him a small nod, a silent agreement to keep the scene she had just witnessed a secret. She knew if Charles found out she had a favorite, he would give her one of his hour-long lectures. And those were not fun!

  Not that Peter _knew_ of course.

  Muttering a quick " _Good Night_ " to the blue mutant, Peter began to hobble back to his room. Although limping was very boring in speed, the things he just did for his father were occupying his mind, and that was enough to distract Peter from his slow walk.

  Erik didn't scream for the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~  

  "Talking to each other," the Professor had said. "Is the first step to evaluating the problem." So, keeping those words in mind, the X-Men team had decided to take matters into their own hands and fix their nightmare problem themselves, setting up the only think they could think of. A group therapy session. The sessions were held at 9 in the morning and lasted for about an hour.

  In the beginning, their meeting did _absolutely nothing,_ as no one had the courage to speak up about what haunted them at night. Then, it got better and to a point where they didn't have to talk about nightmares anymore, they could just hangout and learn random shit about each other. Like how Ororo loves chocolate or how Jean is a fucking pro at cooking, but a terrible baker. ( _Her cookies were black, **black!**_ ) Scott could play the guitar and Kurt could tell the _best_ stories and make you believe that they were actually _true_.

  And Peter? Well, he was just a badass in general. He could steal a tv in a speed faster than anyone could blink and still be gone before anyone knew. (' _Scott had called him a lying bitch at this, but the wallet in Peter's hand said something else...'_ )  

  The sessions were fun, and in no time, their nightmares started decreasing. Even Jubilee started coming to the meetings, which was weird, but no one minded.

  Or maybe not as weird as they thought, since it turns out Jubilee had her own problems that were just as bad. (Her issues had nothing to do with nightmares, thankfully.) The thing that bothered her was the fact that the Professor wouldn't let her join the X-Men, no matter how many times she begged.

  It confusing to why Charles wouldn't let Jubilee into their little squad. He let _Jean_ in, and she has some weird, dangerous pheonix-thing inside her! Jubilee could literally shoot _fireworks_ out of her hands! Having her on the team would be totally awesome! Plus, they could use more members; Peter was getting tired of Scott.The kid's too much of a " _Goody Two-Shoes_ " and, in Peter's opinion, is all bark and no bite. Maybe he could trade Scott in for Jubilee...

  Nah, Scott's too fun to mess around with.

  Which brings them to their latest argument. 

  "For the last time, Peter," Scott pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced up across the coffee table. "The Professor won't let Jubilee in, so stop coming up with plans and dragging us into them!"

  Peter's enthusiasm deflated a bit from his plans being shot down. Again. (' _Way to ruin the fun._ ') Sighing, the silver-haired mutant admitted defeat and rested his chin on his palm, receiving pats on the back from Kurt and Jubilee.

  "Now," Scott looked around the living room the group session was currently held in. "Anyone else have anything to share?"

  "We should help Jubilee join the X-Men."

   Facepalming, Scott groaned and looked at Peter. "I just told you we can't let her in, it's not our choice."

  " _Aww, come one!_ She's our friend! We should do everything we can to help her." This earned the silver-haired mutant a grin from Jubilee. "And," Peter said with a smirk. "If it were Jean, you would agree, since you seem to keep looking at her with your lovesick, puppy-dog eyes! Not to mention the fact that you always seem to be fawning over-"

 " ** _BOOM!_** "

  Silence erupted around the group as Peter slowly looked towards the floor. A small hole was blasted right next to his bad leg, the edges burned and smoking. Looking back up, Peter was meet with a glaring Scott.

  " _Do not say another word in front of her._ " Scott said in a low voice, his fingers lowering themselves from his visor.

  " _Pfft_ , why? Are you gonna do something about it?" Peter said with a smug grin. Oh, he was really pushing the kid's buttons now.

  "You want to find out-" A blue tail wrapped itself around Scott's wrist, stopping him from pressing his visor.

  "Please stop fighting." Kurt said with pleading eyes. "The Professor will be mad if you start a fight."

  "Yeah! You tell 'em, Kurt!"

  " ** _CLANK!_** "

  A wooden board clocked Peter on his head. Glancing up at the ceiling, the speedster saw another hole on the ceiling above his head, pieces of wood falling to the ground.

  " _Hey_! No far, Summers! You didn't give me a warning!" Peter snapped at Scott, who was not even bothering to hide his grin.

  "You'll be fine, and aren't you supposed to be fast enough not to get hit?"

  Peter opened his mouth for a comeback when someone said it for him.

  "He would, if it weren't for his leg that _you_ happened to shot." 

  Turning around, the X-Men -and Jubilee- were met with a smiling Professor, who had a hint of annoyence in his voice.

  "Can someone please tell me why there is a hole in the floor and ceiling?" Stuttering was the only answer he got.

  "Oh, uh, it was, um-"

  "It was Scott, wasn't it?"

  "And Peter!"

  Sighing, Charles looked over at the two in question. "Honestly, you two act like children. Very dangerous children. Though I expect it more from Peter than you, Scott."

  "Thanks _,_ Professor." Peter commented sarcastically. "For that insult."

  "Your welcome, Peter." The Professor smiled innocently and began to make his way down the hall, towards the kitchen. "Now, please clean up before you leave the room. I don't want the other children to trip or get hit by falling debris from the ceiling."

  When he left, everyone began to eye the destruction, wondering who would be the one to clean it up. Jean decided for them as she levitated a broom towards her and handed it to Scott. He looked at her, puzzled.

  "The mess is your fault, so it's your responsibility to clean it up."

  With a glare at Peter, Scott began to pick up the fallen peices of wood and chucked them into the trash can nearby. He paused in his cleansing when he heard snickering from behind him.

  "What now?" Scott said with a huff.

  "Nothing really." Peter said with a smirk. "It's just that you tried to shot me _twice_ and got me clocked on the head. So now you owe me, big time."

  Scott almost tripped on his broom as he heard those words. Though it was fair to owe Peter -since he _did_ tried to shot him twice- Scott couldn't imagine what he would have to do for the speedster. There was no telling when the guy used to be a kleptomaniac, and that thought alone was enough to set shivers up his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, in my words, could be sort of a filler chapter. Except it shows a bit of the relationship Peter has with his team and his dad.
> 
> I sprinkled in a little bit of Dadneto in this chapter to help develop Peter and Erik's relationship a bit, since I plan to develop that further before I drop the "I'm your son" deal on them. I feel like they should know each other before stepping into the "father-son" territory. 
> 
> Also, I plan to explore the rest of the characters relationships, including the X-Men's attitude towards each other. This chapter, though, shows Peter and Scott's attitude towards each other.


	7. Free At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's leg is finally better, so now he's back in action and ready to start his X-Men training again! Except for training, they're fighting Erik. Yay....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone for the late update! I was on vacation last week, but I came back and wrote a chapter for this week. Again, sorry for the late update and please give feedback on how I did. Thanks!

  If Peter could wish for anything right now, it would be to be anywhere _but_ sitting on a table in Hank's lab. Not to say he hated Hank, since the guy was pretty cool, but the scientest-slash-school nurse took _way_ too long just to cut some damn white bandages off Peter's leg. All he had to do was grab some scissors and snip them off. Easy, right?

  Not for Hank, apparently.

  " _Hank_ ," the Professor called to the blue, furry mutant currently checking God-knows-what in a small vial. "Can you please save your experiments for _another time_? I don't think Peter can wait another moment."

  It been 30 minutes since Hank had called for everyone to come to his lab for the removal of Peter's _bandages-from-hell_ and still, the man was _sitting_ on his brown stool looking at little colorful vials like there was _totally_ not a group of people waiting on him. And by everyone, it meant _everyone_. The Professor, Raven, Erik, and the whole X-Men squad. Each of them had their own perspectives on the situation at hand.

  Raven looked like she was getting closer and closer to kicking Hank's butt for making them wait so long, while Erik seemed to be consider murdering him by the look on his face. The teenagers in the room were _very_ occupied in messing with everything in the lab, like seeing what the drill on the table did or what the syringes next to Peter could do. Peter yelped when Scott tried to inject him with one and smashed the tube to bits, causing Hank to snap out of whatever daze he was in and walk over to see what the commotion was. The look he gave the two when he saw what happened may have made Scott guilty, but not Peter. It just meant that Hank had finally gotten his ass out of his seat and could finally do what Peter came here for.

  "Now before I begin," Hank said with a pair of scissors in hand. "I want you to know that after I cut these bandages off, it might feel a little weird walking again."

  "So like the time Apocalypse broke my leg and I had to sit in the awful cast for-"

  "Yes, like that, except it won't be as bad as last time."

  Peter breathed a sigh of relief at the confirmation. (' _Oh thank God._ ')

  Hank lifted a strip of the bandage in his hand and brought the scissors closer. "Now, let's get this over with."

  It took a few minutes, but by the time Hank had finished, all that was left was Peter's newly-healed leg and a badass scar. A chuckle bounced out of Peter's mouth as he wiggled his toes and scooted closer to the edge of the table. He heard Hank say something about " _walking_ " and " _taking it easy_ " but screw that! Peter could run again and that's all that matters.

  "I suggest you start walking and taking it easy before you start using-"

  "Yeah, yeah, okay. Whatever." Peter waved Hank off as he grinned, jumping off the table and slipping his googles over his eyes. It took a moment before everyone caught on to what he was about to do, but of course, they were too late.

  Charles barely had time to yell " _Peter!_ " before he felt the rush of wind on his face and heard a loud crash follow a second later. Silence filled the air as they listened to the chaos of snapping chairs and tables breaking. Jean took this time to place her fingers on her temple and closed her eyes.

  "He's in the library." She sighed and the X-Men grabbed onto Kurt before poofing in thin air.

  The Professor shook his head at the speedster's eagerness and procceded to wheel himself out of the lab, leaving Hank to clean up the mess his guest had started. Raven and Erik trailed right behind him.

  "Well, he was certainly an eager one." Erik said when they reached the library, a split table decorating the middle of the room followed by the remains of chairs scattered about. There was a huge pile of disarrayed books lying in a corner with Jean, Ororo, and Kurt digging around for Peter while Scott pulled at the silver-haired mutant's arm.

  "Impulsive more like it," Charles commented as he shared a glance with Raven. "Like a certain someone we know."

  The Professor pointly ignored Erik's questionable look as he watched Peter stagger out of the books, a grin still on his face despite the mess he caused. Well, at least Peter was happy. That's all that mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~

  Despite Hank advising him to walk before he used his powers, Peter chose to ignore him- like usual - in favor of running because it's been a hell of a long time since he's felt the wind in his face or the exhilaration of the speed. So every afternoon, Peter would go outside, with his suit and everything, and use his powers for as long as he could before falling flat on his face in front his teammates.

  At first, he could only us his powers for a few minutes before crashing. However, since Peter's been running every afternoon, it bumped up to 15 minutes, 30 minutes, 45 minutes, and now it's....longer than 45 minutes...He lost count.

  Today was like every other afternoon. First, Peter would find a suitable area on the grass to run. Next, he would slip on his goggles. Then, he ran. Simple. Now all he's waiting for is for Raven to come and drag him back to training, it's been awhile since he's been in the Danger Room after all. But she's not here yet, so Peter said, " _Screw it!_ " and ran anyway.

  Checking to make sure he had his goggles on correctly, Peter stuffed his headphones onto his head, clicked on the walkman on his side and let the sweet sound of Eurythmics fill his ears.

_Sweet dreams are made of these_

_Who am I to disagree?_

  Peter dug his heels into the soft dirt and pushed off.

_I traveled the world and the seven seas_

_Everybody's looking for something_

  The leaves falling from the trees around him slowed down as time began to freeze. The grass beneath Peter's feet were momentarly stuck in the air as his shoes ripped them out of the ground.

_Some of them want to use you_

_Some of them want to get used by you_

_Some of them what to abuse you_

_Some of them want to be abused_

  The wind outside had become a dull breeze on his face. The students playing nearby froze in their movements; the frisbee that was flying in the air was inches from the ground. A small, white dog was running next to it; it's tiny paws stuck in the air.

_Sweet dreams are made of these_

_Who am I to disagree?_

  Peter had made it to the back of the mansion when he saw Raven step out, her blue foot peeking out from behind the barely opened doors.

_I traveled the world and the seven seas_

_Everybody's looking for something_

  Peter skidded to a stop in front of his mentor, kicking up dirt and scorching black marks onto the contrete stairs. Throwing his headphones off of his head, Peter beamed at the blue mutant with excitement. It was about time!

  "I see you're back to normal. Happy to use your powers again?"

  Peter tucked away his headphones and nodded enthusiastically. " _Hell yeah I am!_ So are you here to drag me off to training?"

  Raven rolled her eyes and softly smacked Peter on the head. "Of course I am! You didn't think I would kick you out of the X-Men, right? I would be stupid if I did, now come on. I have a suprise for you guys so we better hurry back." Peter smirked and zipped ahead, leaving Raven in the dust and trailing in bits of grass from the lawn outside with him.

~~~~~~~~~

  Raven had to check up on her definition of a " _suprise_ " because fighting against a former terrorist and, oh yeah, _his father_ was not what Peter would called a suprise. In fact, he would call it a death wish, and for very good reasons. One of them being that this was a stupid idea and that he would rather die in a hole than fight Erik, because he really, _really_ didn't want to fight Erik.

  So, while chanting " _I'm going to die._ " multiple time in his head, Peter zipped around the mist Ororo had conjured up to try to blind Erik- which failed since he could sense the _metal in their suits!_ -and pushed Jean out of the way of an incoming metal-ball-of-death.

  The X-Men had long past ripped the helmet off of Erik's head, but the man had a skull of iron because not even Jean could worm her way into his mind. Talk about badass.

  _Ah!_ He couldn't be thinking about that right now, not when one of Erik's death balls had rammed itself Ororo's forehead.

  Peter scooped her up with ease and dashed away, thankful when Erik didn't fling her away like he did Scott, who was currently stuck to the wall. Poor Scott.

  A " _BAMF"_ sound startled Peter out of his wits as Kurt popped out of thin air and grabbed Ororo's arm. A second later, the blue-tailed mutant poofed away and Peter felt tug on his walkman. His metal walkman. (' _Shit._ ') Was all Peter could think of before he was yanked back and dragged from his feet. Struggling against the metal bender's grip was frutile as Peter continued to squirm his way out.

_"No! I'm not ready to die! Take Scott, he's stuck to the wall! Not me!"_ Peter yelled as he tried to dig his nails into the floor of the Danger Room. A pair of boots clambered over the speedster and Peter felt himself being tugged away from the floor into the air.

  "Peter, please stop exaggerating. This is a training exercise, not a war." Erik sighed as he brushed away the burnt parts of his uniform, complementary of Scott and Ororo. "Though I don't think it was a smart idea to bring your walkman into this fight."

  "No!" Peter gasped and glared at Erik. "Leave my baby alone!"

  Erik sighed once more before flicking his wrist, bringing Peter closer. In one swift movement, Erik swiped the walkman off of Peter's hip and flashed it in front of the young man. "You're lucky this isn't the real deal, or this would be smashed all over the floor. So you're welcome."

  Peter smiled and nodded at Erik. "Thanks, it would suck if my baby broke. And I guess since you saved my walkman, I should apologize beforehand. So, sorry for this."

  Erik raised an eyebrow in confusion. "For what-"

  In an instant, Peter reeled back his head and slammed it into Erik's, a _crack_ sound echoing in their ears. Immediately, Peter fell to the ground and rubbed his forehead. (' _Damn, that hurt!'_ )

  "Good job, Peter!" He heard Scott yell from wherever the hell he was. A crash from behind told Peter that Scott was now free from Erik's hold. Whoops and cheers rang out through the Danger Room as the teenagers behind Peter laughed and celebrated the defeat of Magneto.

  "Your welcome, guys." Peter groaned as he staggered to his feet and shook his head to get rid of the stars swimming in his vision.

  A hand clamped on Peter's shoulder as he blinked the last few stars away. Shaking his head, the speedster snapped his head towards Scott to give him a piece of his mind for being a _bad leader_ and _rushing ahead of everyone else_ when he stopped and shut himself up. Because it wasn't Scott, it was Erik, with a bloody nose that was oozing down his face. Shit, he hit him too hard, didn't he? Great, now he feels like a jackass.

  "A-are you okay? Did I do that? Oh geez, I'm so sorry-"

  Erik waved him off. "It's fine, it's just a bloody nose, nothing I can't handle. Though I must congratulate your quick thinking, you managed to hit me even when your limbs were immobilized."

  Peter's mouth snapped open. What now? "But-but, I gave you a bloody nose! Aren't you gonna give me a talk or something?"

  Erik shook his head and smirked. "Of course not, and besides, you wouldn't even stand still long enough to listen to one."

  (' _For you maybe._ ') Peter thought with a frown.

  "Well, as fun as this was, I have paperwork to grade. A teacher called in sick, so now I'm stuck doing all her dirty work." Erik grumbled and turned towards the entrance of the Danger Room. "Go celebrate with your friends, you deserve it."

  And with that, Erik left. Peter stood there, watching him go, and felt his heart clench in his chest. Should he go after him? Peter hasn't really seen Erik at all for a few weeks and he certainly hasn't had the chance to talk to him. Maybe this was his chance. Or maybe he should just celebrate with his friends. Gah! This was too conflicting!

  (' _Just go, Peter!'_ )

  Spinning around, Peter met Jean's eyes for a moment, and tilted his head and the small grin she wore. She actually wanted him to ditch them, after that amazing victory? He couldn't do that! That's a dick move!

  Jean heard him apparently, because she rolled her eyes not a second later and raised her fingers to her temple.

  (' _Go!'_ )

  Peter nodded and was just about to start rushing over to his father when he heard Jean call his name out.

  "Wait, Peter! Don't forget!"

  Jean yelled, her fingers still on her temple so the secret messege she sent him was already prossesed into Peter's fast-paced mind. Peter gave a farewell wave to Jean before the zipping away to find Erik.

~~~~~~~~~

  For a school that's being taught by one of the smartest minds in the world, the students here seem to be learning close to nothing. Or at least some of them seem to be. Out of all the poor choices he's made in his life, this one's high on his list. Right under the one for breaking a mutant terrorist out of the Pentagon; seeing a president almost get shot on television by the mutant you helped break out doesn't do to well with your conscience.

  "What is _wrong_ with these kids?" Peter said for the billionth time that day, slamming his head on the wooden table in frustration. "I mean _seriously_ , look at this! This one wrote what looks like chicken shit to me, and this one wrote _Jesus_ for a math problem! Why would they put that as an answer?!"

  "Welcome to my world." Erik muttered from his place across the table, bent over a stack of paper with a pen.

  Peter groaned and scribbled furiously on his own stack, his pen cracking under the extreme force. "I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore. I just found another Jesus answer. God, what are these kid's _thinking_!"

  "Calm down, Peter." Erik sighed and looked up at the speedster, who was busy nibbling the life out of his pen. "I'm pretty sure you did the same back in your school days."

  Peter huffed and crossed his arms. "I sure as hell didn't! Man, looking at these papers makes me feel better about dropping out when I did."

  By the time Peter caught on to what he said, Erik had already turned his attention to the silver-haired mutant. "You dropped out of school?"

  "Um, no?"

  " _Peter..._ " Crap, Erik was using that cursed scolding-parent tone is mother used when she knew he was lying. Fuck his motor-mouth.

  "What!" Peter whined. "It's not a big deal! You know how I am, super fast and shit. So of course I wouldn't be able to sit in a classroom for more than a minute. And I didn't turn out as a deadbeat who lives on the streets, I turned out as a deadbeat who lives in their mom's basement. Oh, and I played Ms. PacMan, so it wasn't that bad."

  "Peter," Erik started. "You're not a deadbeat, you're an X-Men, and that's an incredible achievement."

  Peter glanced at Erik and smiled. He was right, he was an X-Men now- the coolest job in the world. Wow, maybe breaking Erik out of the Pentagon wasn't that bad of a choice.

  "Thanks, no one's ever said that to me before."

  Erik nodded and picked up from where he left off grading. After a couple of moments of silence on both ends, the metal bender asked the most horrifying question Peter's ever heard.

  " _What's Ms. PacMan?_ "

  Peter almost fell off the couch as soon as he heard those words and sharply turned to look at the man. This was impossible! Fumbling over his words and ( _accidentally_ ) knocking over one of the many piles of papers, the speedster tried to spit out his words.

  "Wha- How- Tell me you are lying? Tell me this is all a joke? How do you not know what _Ms. PacMan_ is?!" Peter stuttered, trying _so hard_ not to laugh at the confused look Erik was giving and silently thanking Jean for the messege she gave him.

  (' _Baby steps,_ ') She told him. (' _Baby steps._ ')


	8. I'm Not Afraid Of Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone thought Erik was fine, better, and that his grief was slowly dying away. It turns out it never was and it lead Erik on dark habit. A habit Peter wants to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for uploading this late and I have two reasons for that:
> 
> 1\. My internet went down and I was unable to write for a few days.
> 
> 2.With school starting back up, I haven't had as much time as i wanted to write sadly. 
> 
> Good news is that I was able to finish it today and hopefully next time, it won't take this long to upload another chapter.

  Oh God, what has Peter gotten himself _into_? What was he _thinking_? He should really have thought this out before he acted- not that he ever follows his own advice. He had to think of a way out of this, but how?! _Gah!_ This is one of the worst days of his life! What was he going to do! There was no way out of this and-

  "Checkmate." Peter groaned pitifully into his hands and shook his head. He fucking hates chess. "Dammit Erik!" Peter grumbled as he threw his knight off the chessboard in frustration. "How are you so good at this game?"

  "Years of experience, of course." The metal-bender explained with a smug grin. "What? You didn't expect to win on your first try, did you?" His answer was an obvious yes as Peter silently berated himself for being so goddamn cocky. Erik chuckled and poured himself another drink. Kids these days; always so stubborn. Or maybe just stubborn period in Peter's case, since he was young man rather than a kid- despite how he sometimes acts.

  "This is why I stick to _Ms. PacMan_ rather than... _this_. Less headaches when you play and you don't have to think that much." Peter said, breaking Erik out of his stupor.

  "Yet last I checked, chess doesn't burn your eyes out when you stare at it for a certain hours in a day." Peter scoffed and huffed in disbelief at Erik's accusation, unconsciously tapping his foot on the hardwood floors impulsively. Despite having only played one game, and sadly _losing_ , it turns out chess took a lengthy amount of time to play. An hour to be precise, which is more than enough time for Peter to grow restless from sitting in a chair for that long. Very restless; like a child who had eaten a whole box of candy. Ugh, he really needed to walk, but he couldn't just ditch Erik like that. It would be rude, especially when the guy obviously gave most of his free time to Peter.

  Plus, do you know how long it took for Peter to get to this level of talking? In the beginning, he was tripping over words and stuttering half the time- he couldn't even look Erik in the eye! Yet now look at him! Progress!

  "You know, you don't had to keep visiting me everyday and you are allowed to leave whenever you want" A sigh."I can tell how much of an effort you're making just to sit in the chair and play a chess game with me; something I know you normally wouldn't do. I wouldn't mind at all if you walked out to go stretch your legs, heaven knows how much you need to. " Erik said as he threw a pointed look at the speedster's tapping foot, half expecting it to burn a hole into the rug just by the speed alone.

  Peter merely snorted and paced around the Professor's office. "Nah, I'm good. Raven already made me run a few hundred laps around the mansion this morning, so I already got my fill. Though I hope you don't mind me being here. I know how I can get around people sometimes; talking a mile a minute is what I do daily."

  "I can see that." Erik smirked. "And no, I don't mind you being here. You distract me from my paperwork, and I can't even begin describe how much I loath it. Just don't tell Charles or he'll give me another speech on responsibilities again…"

  Peter rolled his eyes as he zipped to the bookshelf behind the Professor's desk and flipped through the pages in his boredom. Geez, with how much the Professor read, Peter's surprised the man's head hadn't exploded by now. "Is that why I'm here? To distract you from your job? Man, its a good thing you're not my role model. "

  "It's a good thing I'm not then, I haven't made the best choices in my life."

 The silver-haired mutant stopped rummaging through the bookshelf momentarliy as he raised an eyebrow at Erik's choice of words. "Um, Well…I wouldn't say that, Erik. I mean, with what the Professor told us about you, not all your choices were bad. Seriously, he told us you hunted Nazis! That's fucking badass!" Peter abandoned the chaos he was causing to the Professor's bookshelf and grinned at Erik. "Don't tell me it's not, Erik."

  A pause.

  "Fine, I guess in a way it is-"

  Peter nearly tore a hole through the floor as he raced back and crashed onto the armchair in front of the metal-bender. "Holy shit! Tell me everything!"

  "Um, maybe another time." Erik insisted with an uneasy expression. "Horrible things happened back then, and I don't believe you're ready to hear them just yet."

  Peter snorted and let out a chuckle. "What are you, my dad? Come on, I'm a grown ass man! I can take them!" He teased.

  Erik paused from sipping his scotch and stilled for a moment before finishing his drink in one go.

  Well, that can't be good.

~~~~~~~~~

  "Hey, do you two know where the Professor is?"

  Jean and Ororo looked up from their seats at the dining table and glanced at the direction of the voice with an expression of curiosity. Peter stood leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed and his feet shuffling on the floor in impatience. His eyes darted from left to right in an extremely fast pace, as if expecting something to pop up around the corner. Jean shook her head and raised an eyebrow.

  "No sorry, Peter. You just missed him ten minutes ago. Is there any reason you need to see him so bad?"

  The speedster straightened up at the red-head's calculating gaze and turned his head away, fully aware that Jean could read his mind. And he really wasn't in the mood to explain himself when he had better things to do, like find the Professor. "No, no reason at all. Just wondering…"

  Jean and Ororo shared a glance and sighed at Peter's stubbornness, They knew the silver-haired mutant was hiding something and was deliberately acting all innocent to try and cover up. But while his innocent-act was sort of working, the two girls weren't buying any of it. Especially when Peter was mentally screaming " _Erik_ " loud enough for Jean to hear him.

  "Peter…" Said speedster grimaced at Jean's demanding tone and sighed. "Fine, I'll tell you..."

  "Erik's been sort of acting.. strange, and I don't think it's a good thing. Like yesterday I saw him down half a bottle of scotch so I'm not sure what to think of that and-"

  "Wait." Ororo interrupted with a worried expression. "Did you just say that Erik's been drinking?"

  Peter nodded grimly and Jean shook her head. "Peter." She began. "That's definitely not a good sign. Is that why you're looking for the Professor?"

  "Maybe." Peter mumbled and ran a hand through his hair. Jean was right, this is definitely not a good sign, especially when alcohol was involved. Fuck, he should do something, but what? It's not like Erik will willingly spit out a confession and have a heart-to-heart moment with him; the guy was too stubborn for his own good and it would be damn near impossible to get something like the truth out of the metal-bender. But Peter was his son and you know the saying-

  Like father, like son.

  "Well, since the Professor's not here, I might as well talk to him, right?" Peter said, making the question more of a statement if Jean and Ororo knew any better. He was gone in a gush of wind before the girls could utter a word.

~~~~~~~~~

  Erik knew Charles would be more than disappointed in him to see his old friend in such a state, trying to find the answers to his problems at the bottom of a bottle, but sometimes problems can't be solved with a chat. Erik knew that much through experience…

  " _Papa!_ "

  Erik felt something tighten in his chest at the sudden voice in his head, the voice of his little Nina… _No. no, no, no, **no!**_ He didn't want to hear her voice- _their voice_. He didn't want to remember them; their faces, their smiles, their cries, their bodies in his arms-

  Erik mustered out a small, broken wail in his grief as he gripped his hair and pulled tight. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he squeezed them shut, but it did little to stop the tracks running down his face. It took all of Erik's willpower not to cry out in grief, despite the few whimpers that managed to escape his mouth. _God_ , he missed them so much…

  Erik's feet were moving before he had time to register his actions and in a flash, he was in front of a bottle. The metal-bender barely gave it a second thought as he pulled the top off and poured himself a glass. Yep, he was right, Charles would be disappointed in him.

  "I don't think that's such good idea, man."

  Startled, Erik whipped his head around to find the source of the voice. He should have known.

 "Peter?" Erik started with slight hesitance. "What are you-"

  In the blink of an eye, Peter rushed forward and snatched the bottle out of his father's hands. "This can become a bad habit, old man. Trust me, my mother's been throughout the same thing. Or still is? I don't know, she's on and off it-"

  "I don't care. _Just give it back._ "

  Peter clamped his mouth shut and huffed at the tone of Erik's voice. Seriously, Erik was trying to scare him. **Him!** _Pfft, please!_ The metal-bender should know by now that Peter was not afraid in the slightest by anything he did. And besides, nothing will stop Peter from trying to help Erik- _trying_ being the key word here- since Peter was as stubborn as Erik was. "I don't think so. I don't really see how drinking can help you on bit. It's bad news, man." The speedster said with a slight urge, not missing the drunken haze in Erik's eyes. That didn't look like a good sign.

"I don't care." Erik repeated with a hardened, glossy gaze that Peter couldn't help but flinch at, despite not having one ounce of fear in his blood for Erik. This might not turn out as well as Peter hoped it would be. Not that he expected it to of course.

  Peter sighed at how bad he was failing and tried another approach. "Look, Erik-"

  " ** _Crash!_** "

  Glass exploded on the wall above Peter's head as shards fell in a scatter and something wet and cold rained down on him, drenching his hair and leaving a horrible stench of alcohol in it's wake. The air grew silent with tension as the speedster's breath got caught in his throat. Finally ever so slowly, Peter looked up and straight at Erik, who held a look of _agony_ on his face along with an outstretched hand. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened. Erik and Peter stared at each other in stunned silence for what felt like an eternity. nether one of them moving or breathing in fear of breaking the tension.

  Finally, Erik slowly looked down at his shaking hand in shock and glanced up at Peter with regret. But Peter wasn't there anymore, only the bottle was. _The bloody, **fucking** bottle! _ Snarling in a rage at what he had done, Erik picked up the bottle and thrown it hard against the wall.

  Even though Peter wasn't scared of Erik before, maybe he was now.


	9. The Good Old Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik remembers a day back in Poland where his family enjoyed a picnic, and when he wakes up, he's reminded of his grief all over again. His family was his world, what's left for him now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter uploaded! So sorry for the long delay. It has been very busy for me these last few months, leaving me with little time to write. I kept rewriting most of it, which was also the cause of me not updating this story, until I got to a point where I was happy with what I had. Again, sorry for the long delay and fingers crossed for a not-so busy schedule these next few months!
> 
> -Also, quick note! I wrote a little bit of a POV for the pair of deer to get and idea of how Nina's mutation affects animals, since Apocalypse showed that she could control birds.

 

Dear Lord, what has he done…

 

" _Peter_ …"

Erik was surprised to hear how slurred his words were and urgently started to make his way towards the door, his head now feeling slightly hazy and his vision blurring. A slight hammering in his head steadily began to increase. His legs felt weak and he found it a struggle to even put one foot in front of the other; his view of the room slowly starting to shift around him. Erik didn’t even notice how he stumbled across the wooden floors or how he teetered between falling and walking. Each step he took sounded like thunder in his ears and, for a second, he felt his mind blank out.

 

  No, he couldn't pass out, not now of all times. Just a little farther and he would be out the door. He could do it.

 

Erik shook his head to rid himself of the haziness, determined to find Peter. Wanting- _needing_ \- to apologize, to make amends, to- whatever the hell he had to do for his actions! _Fuck_ , what the hell was wrong with him, scaring the young man out of his wits like that. What the was he _thinking_!

 

It's not the boy's fault that Erik was mad at the world-that he was mad for letting the world take the two most important people away from his life- that he had reached a new low and was hiding the obvious pain the grief had layered in his heart. No, none of it was Peter's fault; of course it wasn’t his fault! For all anyone should know, it was Erik's damn fault _alone_ for not trying harder to save his wife and daughter; to protect them. _Like he should have in the first place_.

 

Yet, as Erik attempted to reach the door, the room continued swayed and the color of the walls and the floor started to swirl and blend into each other.

" _No_ ," he heard himself say. " _Not now. I-I have to-_ "

 

But he couldn't- for the life of him, he _couldn't_ stay awake- and whatever it was that was keeping Erik up and about had finally seeped away, leaving the metal-bender drained and _so_ _damn tired_. His feet began to trip over each other as he inched closer and closer to the door. The room grew blurrier and the colors around him dulled, yet Erik's feet still found a way to trudged forward. Erik slowly reached out and raised a heavy arm towards the door, feeling the small hum of the metal doorknob in front of his shaking hands. If he could just _focus_ , he might be able to…

 

Then, as if someone had turned off a switch inside of Erik, his mind went blank. His hand dropped to his side as he slumped forward. It didn't even register to him that he was falling sideways or that he had just banged his head onto the wooden floorboards below him. The only thing that registered to him was the broken bottle that he had thrown earlier laying directly across from him. The honey-colored liquid was leaking all over the floor and still dripping from the walls. The tiny glass shards floating like ducks on a pond.

 

_Ducks…_

 

Darkness quickly covered the room- the floor boards, the broken bottle, everything- as Erik's eyelids grew heavy. His mind easily welcomed the incoming sleep and Erik felt himself slipping farther and farther into the peaceful darkness.

 

_Ducks…_

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

It was a beautiful day.

There was not a cloud in sight, only the vast blue sky above. The blazing sun was shining down on the tall pine trees below, bathing their thick abundant mess of leaves in warmth. A gentle breeze blew over the forest, rustling the plants and clashing with the sun's bright rays- making the evening fair. And while the fronds and leaves shook with the gust of the wind, the smell of gentle dirt and grass mixed in with the air.

 

However, the wildlife was rather noisy compared to the peaceful scenery above. The occasional tweets and chirps heard from the birds in the nearby trees echoed throughout the area as a couple of deer nearby grazed through the many patches of grass, huffing at the small game currently scurrying around.

 “Hello.”

The pair of deer snapped their heads towards the new sound almost instantly, hoofs stomping on the forest ground in surprise. Shaking their heads, the two deer felt their instinct kick in and clumsily backed away from the possible danger.

 

A young girl stood nearby with a kind smile on her face and a too-large wooden basket in her hands. The bucks lowered their heads and thrust their snouts forward, giving the girl a small whiff. She gave a small giggle when she saw that she had gained the deer’s’ attention and slowly took a step forward. Immediately, the pair took a few steps back and the girl froze.

 

“Don’t worry,” She said in a soft voice. “I won’t hurt you.”

 

Maybe it was because of the way her gentle voice somehow put them at ease, or maybe it was because of her kind eyes that seemed to calm them down with only a look, but either way, the deer stopped moving.

 

The girl beamed up at them, and again, put one foot in front of her. The deer gave off a snort and following her movement, now curious about the girl rather than afraid. She must have taken this as a good sign, because it wasn’t long before she edged closer to them at a painfully slow pace.

The two deer huffed with impatience at her speed and closed the distance side-by-side with just a few strides until the girl was almost under their noses. Staining, the girl lowered her wooden basket before cautiously lifting up a hand for them to sniff. And they did.

 

Bending their heads, the pair lowered themselves near her and sniffed her hand. The girl giggled at the cold wetness of their noses and eagerly lifted up another hand to pet the fur of the one closest to her. It reacted by snorting in her hand and raising its’ head to sniff her face. Her giggles had escalated to a laugh by then, and she began to turn her head to the side to try to avoid the curious deer. Except turning her head meant she was to meet with its’ other half, who at the moment was trying to nudge open the large basket at her feet.

 

“I’m sorry. I know you’re wondering what’s inside,” The young girl said as she gently pushed the large herbivores’ head away from the basket. “But that’s not for you.”

The deer responding by shaking its head and attempting to ignore her by trying to nudge the basket lids open once again. She laughed and once again tried to push its’ nose away from her basket while its’ partner nosed her head and blew a small puff of air with a huff into her brown hair.

 

“Well, it sure looks like someone is having fun.” The trio froze in their actions and lifted their heads up at the new voice.

 

The girl perked up and flashed the newcomer a smile. “ _Papa!_ ” She threw a hand up and waved him over. “Look, Papa! I made some new friends! Come and meet them!”

 

   Erik chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Nina. I wouldn’t want to scare them off, not when you just gained their trust it seems. However, I am sorry to say that we must be on our way, so it’s time you said goodbye to your friends. Your mother is waiting for us by the lake, remember? ”

 

“The picnic, of course! Sorry Papa, I almost forgot.”

 

“It's fine, darling. THere was no harm done.” Erik said as he held out his hand for his daughter. “Shall we go?”

 

Nina’s face broke into an eager smile as she picked up the wooden basket and grabbed Erik’s outstretched hand. Throwing a glance back, Nina eagerly waved back to the pair of deer behind her. “Goodbye, my friends! See you later!” Her response was a small _“huff”_ before the graceful animals galloped away. Nina giggled as they left and looked up at her father with pure bliss. The sight made Erik smile. And with that goodbye in check, father and daughter strolled through the vast forest, hands linked as Nina skipped along Erik’s side.

 

Their walk was very enjoyable on Erik’s part, though maybe a bit more on Nina’s by the way she poked her father’s side while pointing at every flower or animal that was in plain view for her to see. Not that he didn’t mind though, because seeing Nina’s eyes full of wonder over something she’d seen numerous times before was enough for Erik to say the least. The rich scent of the scenery around them was also very relaxing, so relaxing that Erik soon forgot his worries and found himself…. _calm_. Something he’s never really done much before.

 

To just sit back and relax like this? Oh, if only Erik could do this everyday. Sadly, paranoia always puts him on edge, from the media still on the lookout for him, to living under a false identity just to hide who he truly is from the men at work. So thanks to his constant worrying, Erik’s never been able to sit back and relax. Which drove Magda to finally make him take a day off and plan a picnic for all of them, hoping that having a relaxing day would cheer him up. And to remind him to stop worrying so much, something he's been told on more than one occasion, which he's thankful for, since it's those times where she worries that Erik always feels grateful for having both of them in his life.

 

“Papa? Are you okay? Papa?”

 

Startled, Erik snaps out of his daze and looks over to his side. “I’m sorry, my darling. I’m all right, just thinking for a minute. Nothing to worry about.”

 

“Thinking? What were you thinking about, Papa?”

 

Erik smiles at Nina and relies. “I was thinking about how lucky I am to have you and your mother in my life.”

 

   Nina giggled and opened her mouth to respond before focusing on something behind Erik and bursting into a squealing fit. She hopped up and down and pointed in front of her. “Look!” Nina  _accidently_  shouted. “We’re here, Papa! We’re here! And there’s Mama! And the ducks! Papa, the ducks are here too! Can I go play with them! Can I! Can I!”

 

Erik blinked in surprise at his daughter’s outburst and turned around to followed her finger to the lake nearby, and sure enough, there was Magda looking over at them on the far end. And then there were the small circle of ducks too.

 

Erik let out a chuckle. “Of course, Nina.” The metal-bender said as he playfully ruffled his rambunctious daughter’s hair. He threw a quick glance at the wooden basket swinging from Nina’s hands and added, “But first, why don’t you drop that off to your mother real quick? You can go play after lunch, fair?”

 

Nina quickly shook her head and bounded towards her mother, jumping over loose rocks and steering away from the edge of the lake with Erik following suite. By the time Nina had reached her mother, Magda was already reaching out for her daughter as the girl ran into her warm embrace. The woman planted a soft kiss on the crown of the girl’s head and combed a hand down Nina’s hair. “Hello sweetheart.” Magda greeted when they parted. “What took you two so long? I was getting worried when you hadn’t showed up earlier. I thought I was going to have to cancel our picnic, since I had no husband and daughter to share it with and no food to eat.”

 

Nina shyly looked down at her shoes and sheepishly held out the wooden basket she had been holding for the past few minutes. “Sorry, Mama. I didn’t mean to make you wait- honest! I saw a couple of deer by the house and I just had to say hello.”

 

Magda smiled at the news and gently took the picnic basket out of her daughter’s hands. “You met a pair of deer? Lucky you! I’ve never met any deer. How was it, huh? Were they nice?”

 

Nina beamed up at her mother. “Yeah! They were very nice and they weren’t even scared of me! And they were so pretty and soft, but also _nosey_! One of the tried to eat my hair and the other tried to open our picnic basket! But I was so close to them, Mama, like right under their noses! And they didn’t run away! Papa saw, he was right there!” Nina looked over her shoulder at her father with a smile on her face. “Right, Papa?”

 

Erik chuckled and ruffled Nina’s hair as he walked over to Magda. “Of course they did, Nina. No animal would run away from you, my darling. Animals love you!”

 

“See, Mama! See! I did pet them!”

 

Magda laughed and settled down on the blanket spread out below her. “I believe you, Nina. Now, what would you like to do first? Eat your lunch or play with the ducks?” The questions barley left her mouth before the young girl broke off into a run towards the lake.

 “I guess that answers it then. “ Erik said as he sat down next to his wife.

 

Magda turned her head to face him with a worried expression just as he sat down. “Was she really that close to them?” She asked urgently.

 

“The deer? Oh yes, very close. She even petted them, while they started sniffing her hair and her clothes. One of them tried to open the basket and she pushed its’ head away. And it let her.” Erik answered as he began to open the wooden basket.

 

“But I wonder, Erik.” Magda said as she looked at Erik, who was taking out a sandwich. “Could this be her mutation? I know it must be early for her to receive her powers, but could that be it? Could that be why she’s so talented with animals?”

 

Erik froze for a second before putting his sandwich down. “Most likely, considering the fact that she does carry the mutant gene inside of her. However, she is young to already be starting to develop her power. Too young, and that’s what worries me as I’m sure it worries you. Usually, the mutation occurs during puberty, and Nina is barely seven. But don’t fret, Magda. If I can learn to control my power, then so can she. We’ll teach her to hide her powers, so no one will know.”

 

Magda bit her lip nervously as she glanced over at their daughter, who had begun to attract a group of ducklings. “I just hope she’ll be alright. I worry for her future- and for _ours._ ”

 

Erik sighed and laid his hand over his, causing her to lock eyes with him. He smiled softly as gently squeezed her hand in his. “Nothing’s going to happen, to her or to us. We’re fine now, so why wouldn’t we be then? No one at work suspects a thing and none of our neighbors have any suspensions to what I’ve done and who I was. Things are alright, love. And they always will be.”

 

If only Erik could believe his own words like Magda did.

 

She smiled at him before leaning over and planting a kiss on his lips. It was soft and a little short for his liking. Magda had snuggled up next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Erik placed a small smile on his face to hide his worries and watched Nina whisper encouraging words to the ducklings as they tried to swim over to her by the edge of the lake, the mother quaking at them from behind.

Would things really be alright? Would anyone ever find out? It had been years since the incident at the White House and still, his face was still being shown in the papers. But no one had put glued the pieces together on who he was, so maybe things were good for once? Maybe they were safe.

 

No, Erik couldn’t believe that, he really _couldn’t_! After all he’s done, all the people buried in the ground because of him, would he really think they would stop looking for him? There were many nights where he stayed up and pondered this numerous times, and the next day his fellow coworkers at the factory would question him about his wellbeing. It’s either “How are you, Henryk?” or “Are you fairing well, Henryk?” which never made him any less paranoid or scared for his family. _His family._

 

With all this paranoia about whether people would find out, he almost forgot about Nina.

 

Her powers were developing rather early for someone her age. Erik barley got his at age fourteen, and that was more from…anger than maturity. Nina was only a child and she can already befriend a deer in such a short time! As proud as he is of her, fear balances that pride. What would it be like for her when she gets older? She’d have to hide her mutation in order to be safe, but Erik can already tell how heartbroken she’ll be ever time she does that. The young girl loves animals and its very obvious how they feel about her.

 

Yet, there’s at least one good factor about her developing mutation. At least it’s not a physical one. Which means no one knows and no one suspects a thing.

 

Nina will live a safe life, one different in many ways than his. He’ll make sure of it.

 

“Papa! Mama! Look!” Nina hollered at her parents as she pointed at the group of ducklings. “This one has a five brothers and sisters! Can I have one too?”

 

Erik and Magda blinked in shock at Nina’s question and looked over at their daughter in stupor. Erik was the first to laugh.

 

 

More children? Erik’s never thought of that before despite how much he ponders. It’s always been Magda, Nina, and himself. There was never any thought of adding another member to their family, and by the color of Magda’s face, neither had she. But to have another child?

 

It had never been a debate to Magda being the love of his life, even on the first night they meet. However, Nina was his world, from the moment she opened her eyes to every single day after that. There was thing that had him thinking though. Even if he and Magda did have more children later on, would those children become his world too? Erik didn’t even have to answer that as he watched Nina laugh in pure joy at the sight of her mother’s face.

 

Nina was his world, so they would be too.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

_‘Erik, it’s time to wake up now.’_

 

The first thing that registered to Erik’s mind when he opened his eyes to the harsh sunlight was “Where am I?”

 

The hard, wooden floorboards beneath him did not feel like the soft, firm mattress he usually woke up to in the mornings. The air around him felt cold and empty. Did Magda already wake up? How odd considering she was never an early riser. He was the one to make breakfast for her in the morning with Nina. This was not right.

 

“Erik.” There was that voice again. Was that Charles? What was going on? Where was-

 

Then, it all came flooding back. What happened, why he had this terrible migraine, why the strong scent of alcohol was surrounding him.

 

What became of Magda and Nina.

 

Erik felt his throat close up at the thought and quickly, it became hard to breathe as he felt something wet attempt to leak from his eyes. Erik struggled to take a breath to calm down, but every time he did so, the smell of liquor reminded him of his failure. His failure to save the people he loved the most. And that’s what reminded him that there was nothing he could do about it. They were dead and he may as well be too.

 

Oh, he could imagine how disappointed Magda would be to see him like this, thinking of something so. She’s want him to be happy, not grieving. But how could he? He loved her and their daughter with all of his heart and now they’re gone. It feels as if all he can do is try to forget, but it turns out not even his method was the best one for the job. At least it helps him forget the heartache, numbing him of the pain.

 

Yet, he still felt guilty for scaring Peter like that. Erik knew the speedster was only trying to help, but the grief in his heart was just too much.

 

It was always too much.

 

“Tell it to me straight, Charles.” The metal-bender said as he attempted to sit up in order to hide the stray tear streaks that fell from his eyes. “Is Peter okay?”

 

The Professor sighed. “Yes, he’s alright, just a little shaken up. I tried talking to him earlier with no success. Though I must say, I should be asking you the same thing. I know it’s been hard for you, but I’ve told you before, you have a lot of people in this school that care about you and want to help. It pains me to see you like this, old friend.”

 

Erik closed his eyes briefly to stop the pounding headache from increasing. “I’m sorry, Charles. I know you’re all there for me. It’s just been so hard without them, knowing I failed them.”

 

   “You didn’t fail them, Erik,” Charles said as he leaned towards his grieving friend. “Nothing you did was your fault. What happened was a great tragedy. No one, not even you, could see it coming. You shouldn’t blame yourself. The people in this house- this school - is here to help you. We’re here to help you, just as Peter wanted to do. People grieve in different ways, but yours happened to be a _dangerous_ one and one I would highly not recommend, coming from my own personal experience. That’s what Peter saw, so he tried to help.”

 

 

Erik nodded numbly and attempted to get up, but was immediately shut down when his throbbing headache came back. Damn his hangover!

 

Charles reached over and patted the metal-bender shoulder in sympathy before he wheeled himself towards the door. “I’ll leave you to rest off that hangover. If you need anything, just ask and I’ll come. But just so you know, I was planning on heading over to Peter right now, if you want to join me?”

 

He should say yes, this would be a _perfect_ time to apologize to Peter, to ask the young man for forgiveness for snapping at him when all he wanted to do was help. However, something in him just _didn’t_ have the energy to get up. It sank down to his bones to where it felt as if all his energy had been drained again. A deep sadness grew in his heart and the old, familiar grief returned once again. Maybe it would be best to rest.

 

“I think I’ll stay here for now.” Erik said as he struggled to stand up and move towards the bed. It probably would be best to rest.


	10. Looking Back At the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the confrontation between Erik, Peter starts to wonder how Erik was before. Charles is more than happy to tell him but Peter has someone else in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, another chapter is up! I was sad when I didn't get to upload this earlier but I was a vacation for a few days so I wasn't able to upload this sooner. It's here now though, so thank you for your patience!

  Peter felt his legs move before he had a chance to process it happening.

 

  He burst through the doors in a blur, feeling the newfound adrenaline rush through his veins. He couldn’t decipher what had just happened, couldn’t think of what he was doing; his mind was a blank slate. His body took control as it went on autopilot and Peter felt his instincts _screaming_ at him to run. To where, he didn’t know- it felt as though all that he knew was to _run_ and nothing else.

 

  Turning the corner, Peter bolted up the nearest flight of stairs and tripped on a step in his haste. His head collided with the wood, but his feet found its leverage before he could even think about the pain. He barely acknowledged where he was going anymore; he barely acknowledged anything at this point anymore, all he knew was to just keep going at this point.

 

  His arms seemed to move on its own accord as his body slammed into a door, his hands fumbling with turning the knob before it flew open and the speedster stumbled inside. Peter quickly slammed the door with more force than he intended and collapsed onto the wall beside it. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins finally went away, slowly revealing the shock that had been standing dormant inside of him.

 

  The air felt cold around him as Peter finally allowed himself to relax and catch his breath, taking a quick glance around to find out whose room he had so rudely barged into.

 

  Posters were thrown all over the wall, a collection of Pink Floyd and Rush hanging over a bed that was messy with covers thrown about. Shit, this was his room; he had run off to his room off all things. Talk about luck; now he didn’t have to explain to some random kid on why he had burst into their room. That would have been hellish to explain. Peter chuckled at the thought before reality took those few seconds to come back to him, and when it did, he _really_ wished he hadn’t.

 

  His labored breaths sounded foreign to him and his throat felt as uncomfortably dry as a desert. The ache in his legs wasn’t fun either; it was as if he had just run for days without a break and now couldn’t move. Then there was the lingering pain in his head, a throb that just wouldn’t go away- thanks to his earlier meeting with a slab of wood that had clunked him on the head.

  Groaning a little from his throbbing headache, Peter ran a hand through his hair to rub at the source of the pain when he stopped, feeling how damp it was. Retreating his hand, the speedster stared at it in confusion. Then, something _strong_ hit his nostrils and Peter decided to take a quick sniff. It was then that he started freaking out.

 

  “Holy shit, _holy shit_!” Curses flew out of his mouth as Peter realized the situation he had just _shitted_ _on_. The ache in his legs was forgotten as he began to pace the floor.

  

  Erik had thrown a fucking bottle at his head, a fucking bottle of all things! If the man didn’t want him there, he could have just said so himself! Seriously, all Peter came there to do was help, to talk some sense into him about drinking. It wasn’t like it was his fault for caring, Erik’s his dad after all so why wouldn’t Peter care- ignoring the face that one of them knew something the other didn’t, but that didn’t matter right now.

 

  It shouldn’t have ended like that, with a bottle thrown at his head. It wasn’t supposed to _end_ in a violent way. He didn’t want it to, in other words. He just wanted this time to be _different_. Well, something different than the way it always ended with his mom at least.

 

  It was no secret that she drank, he knew that much. She always poured herself something in a cup, whether guest were present or not. Yet, despite her habits never dying, his mom was actually doing better than she was years ago.

 

  Those years back then were _hell_ for him.

 

   Peter remembered when she used to always come home in a sour mood when he was younger, always yelling at him in face at such a close distance that he could smell something foul and strong in her breath. The same smell in his hair right now. His house was never quiet with her screaming, he remembered the way her voice drowned out the sound of the TV whenever he was home for once, back home from God knows where. She would stumble around the house as she screamed at the heavens about her shitty ass job or the mutant children she never know how to take care of. It was a wonder that the neighbors never called the police, if they even cared at all.

 

  He remembered the different kinds of bottles she would take out of the cheap fridge they had as soon as she got home from work. The labels would always be some weird brand he had never heard of, telling him that it was most likely some cheap, knock-off brand from the convenience store across the street. The way she drowned herself for just a short moment of peace was always worrisome for him, even when he was little.

 

  “ _I had a tough day at work_ ,” she’d say when she saw him, her words slurred and hard to understand. “ _I deserve this! You hear me! I deserve this and I won’t let you take this away from me. You already took everything away from me already!”_

 

  That was his life for what felt like forever; his mom coming home, taking out another bottle from the fridge, and yelling in a drunken rage while she caused chaos throughout the house.

 

  It was when he was twelve that he had finally had enough of her drunken states, and he just took whatever bottle out of her hand. She started yelling, bursting his eardrums to give it back while using every curse and insult she knew. Her words stung him, yes, but he didn’t really care. He was just fed up with the drinking- with everything. The good news was that it didn’t last long, as it took only a few minutes before the alcohol took affect and she was out like a light. It might have not been the greatest thing to do, but that’s just what he did.

 

  It went on like that for many years until she just stopped drinking all together. _The reason?_ Peter never knew and didn’t care, he was just glad she stopped.

 

  And then Erik started drinking like his mom and a sliver of hope wished his dad would listen to him when his mom didn’t. However, that hope turned into a pile of shit and now here he was, throwing a mix between a fit and a panic attack in his bedroom.

 

  “ _Holy fucking hell! What the ever-loving shit just happened! I-I just wanted to help the old man! Not getting chucked at my fucking head! Oh shit, what the fuck am I going to do? What can I do? Is there even anything I can do? Fucking **shit**!”_ Peter’s pacing had stopped by now and he was vaguely aware of his body shivering as he gripped at his hair. He was even less aware of the mutant currently on the other side of his door, a look of worry on their face.

 

   Hesitantly, the mutant lifted up a hand to knock against the door.

 

   “Peter” The Professor started, a little overwhelmed by the whirlwind that was Peter’s thoughts. “Are you alright? It seems that you could use someone to talk to.”

 

  The only thing the Professor got was the sound of Peter’s pacing starting up again and faint curses mumbled from behind the door. Charles grimaced at the mutant’s behavior and knocked once more.

 

  “Peter. Did you hear me Peter? I asked if-“

 

  “I-I heard you.” Came a shaky reply. “I just don’t really know what to do right now. I-I can’t _think_ _straight_ and my hands are shaking and so is my body and I’m so confused on _what to do_ and _what to think_ and I don’t know what’s happening and-“

 

  “Slow down Peter,” The telepath interrupted. “Just slow down, you’re speaking a bit too fast for me. It’s quite obvious to me that you’re having a panic attack, so I’m going to ask you to calm down a bit for me. Can you do that please?”

 

  It was silent for a moment until Peter answered with a “Yeah.”

  

  Charles smiled in relief. “Good, that’s good Peter. Now, a bit slower now, talk to me.”

 

  “Okay, okay.” A sigh. “Well, um, I went to visit Erik about his, you know, drinking. I swear I just wanted to help him out a little, talk to him I guess. I mean- I’ve seen this sort of thing happen Professor, so I’m kind of familiar in my own way on what to do. Then he started acting so _hostile_ and shit went down and, I don’t know, I just sort of ran after that. I-I’m sorry for not talking to you about it first when I found out, I just really wanted to- to _do something_ about it. I mean, Erik’s my dad, why wouldn’t I?”

 

  “There’s nothing to apologize for Peter,” Charles said as he leaned towards the door. “I understand you were trying to help him. Believe me, I’ve been doing that since I first met him and I’m still doing that now. I also understand how challenging it can be. When I first met him, your father was a very troubled man with a dark past. He was fighting a war inside of him that none of us could sympathize with since it was something he had seen himself, something he had experienced and went through alone. I sure he’s still fighting in that war and no one can help him because that is something he must do himself. However, that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying to help him. And I know that you wouldn’t either, none of us would.”

 

  There was a moment of silence after the professor had finished his speech; an unnatural, dead silence that filled the air. Student were still in there classes, leaving the hallways empty; a rare occurrence. The only sounds there were to hear was the breathing coming from the two men. It only lasted for a couple of seconds until Peter broke the silence.

 

  “You know,” he began. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever learned about Erik. Even with all the hours I’ve been with him, playing chess or having small talk, he’s never told me anything about him, like where he came from or even his own religion. My mom never said anything about him so I never knew what he was like growing up. Now, I know this is sort of a weird request but, Professor, can I ask you for something?”

 

  “Of course.”

 

  “Do you think you can…tell me more about Erik? I’m not asking for anything personal, just basic stuff. I mean, you don’t have to but- I just want to know what he was like back then, before he went all evil and stuff.”

 

  Charles considered this for a moment before he answered. “I guess I can do that, but before we continue anything, I suggest we move somewhere more professional for this type of conversation. I’m not sure a conversation like this should be held between a door.”

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

  “Now Peter, what would you like to know?” Charles asked as he wheeled himself behind his desk of his office, facing the silver haired mutant who was currently sitting down with a little too much energy. Peter’s foot was tapping the wooden floors in a blur of motion, his leg shaking from the momentum of his movement.

 

  The question barely had time to hang in the air before Peter spat out his answer enthusiastically. “What was he like, when you met him?”

 

  The Professor raised his eyebrows in thought. “When? Hmm, that was a very long time ago. Twenty years if I’m not mistaken,” Charles mumbled. “Around the time of Cold War. That was a different time for both of us, I was a scholar studying genetics and he was a man with a very dark agenda. We met in Florida, when I saved him from drowning.”

 

  “Wow, really?” Peter said as his eyes widened. “That’s _one_ _way_ to make an impression.”

 

  “You could say that. However, despite having saved his life, he was rather…ungrateful, as I would put it. You see, I had stopped him from murdering a mutant, an unforgiving man who I had the uttermost displeasure of meeting. He did something unspeakable to Erik; something that I am allowed to say for it isn’t my place. Just know that he was a terrible man.” Charles said with a woeful look in his eyes, as if he were looking back in time. His lips thinned and there was distinct, sorrowful shake of his head.

 

  Peter stared at the Professor for a moment, not expected this sort of reaction from his simple question. The speedster wasn’t sure whether cut their meeting short, even though it barley started. This seemed to have turned into a touchy subject for the telepath. Peter didn’t want to cause Charles to relive some bad memories; he couldn’t do that to him, not after everything the Professor had done for him. Maybe he should ask Mystique instead? She did mention something about a _Brotherhood_ once.

 

  “I’m happy that you’re concerned for my wellbeing,” The Professor said abruptly, causing Peter to snap his head towards the telepath because, shit, he forgot. Telepath. “But I assure you, those days are far behind me and since then, I have learned to deal with what happened back then. Now, this isn’t about me, this is about Erik. So, where were we?”

 

  Hesitating, Peter asked, “What was he like, back then when you first met him? Was he like a lone wolf or something?”

 

  "A lone wolf? I guess you could say that; however, after we met, he was somewhat willing to work together when he found out that we were on the same side- to take down the mutant I mentioned before named Shaw. He was distant, cold, selfish, and angry at the time, but he changed while we were working together. He became less anger, more driven, and a good friend.”

 

  “And an ass too.” A voice piped up from behind Peter, coming from the double wooden doors of the Professor’s office. Mystique was there, leaning against the doorframes with a sly smile on her face.

 

  Peter scowled at her and was just about to give her a snarky comeback when he heard the Professor sigh at his foster sister.

 

  “Raven”, he began. “Can you _please_ not use that word? I’m trying to talk to Peter here about Erik and I _do not_ want the man to sound like a villain. He’s better man now.”

 

  “I know that,” Raven replied as she strolled over to lean against Peter’s chair, nudging his arm away to make room for her hand. “But if you’re telling his son about him, I believe you should tell him and not sugarcoat it. Peter’s a grown man, to some degree.” The shape shifter said as she eyed the young mutant beside her, who was giving her a dirty look for her insult. She ignored the look he had thrown at her and continued. “He deserves to know about Erik, _good and bad_. Like the Brotherhood.”

 

  “Oh God, Raven.” Charles started with an exasperated look. “He does not need to know that at this time. Perhaps when-“

 

  “ _Nope_ , telling him now!” Mystique said as she turned to face Peter. “Peter, your dad and I were part of a team of mutants called the Brotherhood and they-“

 

 _“No!”_ Charles cut off anxiously as he wheeled himself over to her. “It is not our place to tell him! And you’re disrupting our meeting! Peter came here to learn more about Erik, not of his decisions!”

 

  Raven sighed and met her brother’s eyes. “Fine.” She said with defeat. “I won’t tell him. I’ll play it your way. _Happy?”_

  

  “Very, now please, if you can excuse us,” Charles said as he motioned Raven to the door. “I would like to get back to my meeting that you so rudely interrupted, and indulge Peter on-“

 

  “Actually,” The speedster butted in with a tilt of his head. “I think I’m good.”

 

  “You are? But we just started. If this is about what Raven said then-”

 

  “Nah.” Peter said as he stood up from his seat. “It’s not that, it’s just that I’m…good. I think I’ve pretty much gotten everything you’ve told me about Erik. An ass that was a turd in the beginning but becomes good for a bit and then was part of a team called the Brotherhood. And then there was the White House Incident and that whole thing with Apocalypse-” Peter hastily cut himself off when he saw the telepath about to cut him off. “It was _nothing_ you said Professor, it’s just-I think I’m still curious, so I want to find out a little more. Like how he was before you met him; another side of the coin so to speak.”

 

  Thank the heavens the Professor seemed to understand what he was saying. “And who do you suggest for a different point of view?” Charles asked as he looked at Peter thoughtfully. “Raven?”

 

  “Not really.” The speedster remarked with a smirk. “I was thinking of someone else.”


	11. A Broken Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria Maximoff was having a normal day when an unexpected visitor arrived, her son. Things start off normal, but take an unexpected turn, making Maria remember a time long ago that she'd rather forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! After weeks of writing this chapter, I finally finished it!
> 
> I have to say, this took longer than I expected-not to mention tiring! I kept rewriting this chapter a bunch of times until I was happy with it and it actually ended up being longer than most.
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience and I hope you enjoy reading this chapter!
> 
> P.S. Since Peter's mom or sister didn't have a name in the movies, (I checked) I decided to name them myself.

Today was going to be a good day. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and not a wisp of white was seen in the bright blue sky, allowing the sun cast its vibrant rays without the nuisance of clouds in the way. Warm sunshine streamed down onto the morning dew left on the leaves of the trees and the blades of the grass, resulting in a sparkling sight for sore eyes. 

Maria Maximoff let out a blissful sigh at the view from her window. Mornings were always her favorite, from the warm, dazzling glow cast outside to the way the sunlight filtered in through her kitchen window. Oh, if only she could just sit here and relax all day, perhaps drinking a rare cup of tea as she watched this lovely day from her window …

“Mom!” A young voice piped up from behind Maria, snapping her put of her daze. “Your cigarette.”

Furrowing her brows, Maria looked down at the burning stub lodged in-between her fingers in confusion before flinging it with a startled gasp. A string of curses rang from under her breath as she grasped her hand, suddenly noticing the seething pain in between her two fingers. Blowing a puff of air on her hand to ease the raw wound, Maria walked over to the sink in a haste. The searing red mark engraved on her hand greeted her view as the cold-water streamed on her hand, seemingly mocking her for the old habits she could never let go. Maria stifled a sigh and dried her hands, ignoring the lingering pain as the towel brushed up against her burned hand.

“Are you almost done with breakfast, sweetie?” Maria asked over her shoulder.

“Yeah.” was her answer along with a clatter of dishes. 

“Do you want me to wash those for you?” Maria suggested, motioning with her free hand towards bowl and spoon clutched in her daughter’s hands.

“Nah,” The girl replied as she popped up next to her, swerving around Maria to get to the sink. “I can do it.”

Maria rolled her eyes at her daughter in fondness and moved over to give her some room.

“Hey, Mom?” Annie said as she glanced over at the older woman. “When’s Peter coming to visit us again? He promised he’d stop by sooner the last time he was here, and its been almost three weeks since then! Don’t you think he should have visited by now?”

Maria turned to open a kitchen cabinet behind her, tilting her head to the side to let Annie know she was listening. “I’m not sure, dear.” She said while rummaging through the cabinet. “He’ll visit us sooner or later. And besides, you know how busy he is now that he’s working at that fancy school. He’s got responsibilities now, which means he has less free time than he’s used to.

“I know that,” Annie said as she scrubbed her dish absentmindedly. “But Peter promised he would visit soon. He told me he was going to tell me all about his training with the X-Men! You know how cool that is, to have a big brother as a superhero? It's so awesome!”

“I’m not sure he qualifies as a superhero, sweetie-“

“Why not?” Annie huffed as she continued scrubbing. “Peter has all the traits. He has powers, he's brave, and he's a good person. How could he not be a superhero?”

Maria laughed as she closed the kitchen cabinet, a glass cup in hand. “Alright, alright! I admit, your brother's a superhero.“ She admitted before pausing, a smile spreading on her face as she continued mischievously. “A superhero with the attention span of a child.”

That comment made Annie gasp in amused shock. “Mom!” she scolded despite the grin on her face. “You can't say that stuff about your son, you're supposed to agree with me!”

Maria giggled at her daughter before taking a moment to calm down and act stern. She failed miserably. 

It took ten minutes for he laughter in the house to die down, but even then Annie was still giggling. Maria’s smile was still stitched on her face as she fiddled with the cup in her hands, seeming to debate with herself on something before putting it on top of the counter. “You know, it warms my heart very much to hear how highly you think of your brother.” She said truthfully, causing Annie to stop laughing and curiously listen on. “I feel like it's such a blessing to have children who get along so well. And don’t worry, sweetheart, I'm sure he'll visit soon.”

Annie smiled dropped a bit at her mother's sudden words. A little hesitantly, the girl replied. “Thanks Mom.”

Maria reached over and kissed her daughter's forehead. “Now, if I'm not mistaken, you have algebra homework I know you didn't do. Better get started on it, dear.” Annie groaned as soon as soon as “homework “ was mentioned and sighed dramatically as she made her way upstairs. 

Maria but her lip as she watched her go, a seed of worry growing in the pit of her stomach. As much as she didn't mind Annie knowing about the X-Men, she couldn't help but think that one day her knowledge of what Peter did would make her a target. Especially with how freely Annie spoke of them, and it didn't help her case when there was so much mutant hate in the world.

To certain people, mutants were all a disease, criminals, and thugs. X-Men or not, titles didn't matter to those kind of people - mutants were a disgrace to humanity.

Mutants may have been accepted to society, but that didn’t mean they were viewed as such- especially by the government. Though from what happened these few years involving a certain metal-bending mutant, it was no surprise.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Maria let out a startled gasp at the unexpected knock on the door. Was she expecting anyone to visit today? And even then, who would come this early in the morning?

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

“One second!” Maria yelled out as she rushed towards the front door, hastily combing her fingers through her hair to at least make an effort to look presentable. The knocks on the door became more frantic, the taps against the wood speeding up in an erotic manner. Maria picked up the pace. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she said as she swiftly unlatched her lock and swung her door open. “I wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour and-“

“Peter?”

Seeing the look of surprise on his mother's face made the speedster snicker. “Hey Mom. Miss me?” He greeted. “Also, could you take any longer to open the door?”

Maria scoffed and playfully smacked her son’s arm. “Oh stop it! It wasn't that long; a minute at most.”

“Only a minute? It felt like ten! I thought I was going to die of boredom from waiting out there so long. You’re lucky I wanted to visit today.”

Maria rolled her eyes at Peter’s antics and motioned him inside. “Well then, come inside already Mr. Impatient. Annie is doing homework right now, but she'll be down in a sec-”

A blur of silver shot past her, cutting Maria off and leaving a faint trail of smudged, thin streaks littered onto her hardwood floors. Then, before the woman could utter a single sound, a chaotic rush of wind pushed past her, rattling her picture frames hanging from the nearby walls. 

Maria stared down the hall for a moment before smiling to herself at the familiarity of the mess he just caused. H used to always come home like that, running through the door and across the hallway, always leaving a mess behind. Maria stayed like that for a moment, letting herself become nostalgic for a moment until she remembered Peter.

There was no doubt her son was over there right now, waiting impatiently. Oh, she can only imagine how restless he looked; his hands stuffed stiffly into his pockets as his foot barely tapping the floors with barely-contained energy. The thought made her smile fondly as she made her way to her living room. She’s kept him waiting long enough after all.

“Wow, really!” squealed a voice before Maria even turned the corner. The unmistakable shrillness echoing from down the hall was easily recognizable to the woman as she listened to the conversation. A laugh followed soon after as Maria heard someone else begin to speak up; the laughter in their voice never dying even as they replied. “Yeah, it was pretty cool! Should have seen how the place looked after the whole thing. Scorch marks were littered all over the walls and Scott’s face was so red!”

Maria finally entered the living room as Annie started giggling, a faint blush growing on her cheeks as the girl laughed at the story Peter was sharing. 

“Oh, hey, Mom!” Peter exclaimed as soon as he saw his mother, his legs thrown lazily over the coffee table as he leaned back against the couch. “You just missed my story. Shit went down at one of my trainings and now we have to wait for the Danger Room to get all cleaned up, so I’ve been bored out of my mind.”

“We” was referring to the X-Men, that much Maria knew. She found it strange how she always knew when he mentioned them, probably because that’s all he ever talked about. Or, in other words, all he ever wanted to talk about, as it seemed the topic excited him more than Pink Floyd.

 

“Well I wouldn’t have missed the story if someone hadn’t made a mess in my hallway. I’m looking at you, Peter.” She said as her son threw up his hands in surrender, not looking the least bit guilty. Something she was more or not used to by now. 

“I know, I know! I made a mess and I got to clean it up. I know the drill.”

Maria sighed at her son’s behavior. “So, how was your morning, Peter?” she asked.

“Pretty boring but a bit better now. The school’s less crowded now that Christmas break is rolling over, which means no more struggling to get breakfast in the morning. I swear, the kid’s there are like animals! I got bit on my arm last week just for grabbing the last piece of toast! And I know there was more bread in the pantry, so there shouldn’t be a reason why he but me! And with sharp teeth, god! I mean, just look at it! There’s a tooth mark-“

“Actually, please don’t show us.” Maria stepped in with a nervous laugh. “I’d rather Annie not tell her friends all about the “sharp-toothed boy that bit her brother” and get a note from the principal on that. Remember when you told her about your leg?”

“Hey!” Annie balked. “It wasn’t my fault people found it gross. All I said was that-“

“Okay! Let’s change the subject.”

“Fine.” Peter said. “Did anything interesting happen this morning?”

“No, not really. But Mom did burn her finger again.” Annie gestured to the cigarette butt Maria sheepishly forgot was still lying on the ground. 

Peter took once glance at it before he zipped next to it and picked it up, a disapproving frown on his face. “Mom.” He said, “I thought you stopped smoking.”

“…It’s a work in progress.”

Annie suddenly jumped up in her seat as she thought of something. “Oh! Oh! I forgot to ask, have you seen that Magneto guy? ‘Cause I heard that he helped fight during the Apocalypse thing and you said you were there and the news was sprouting all this stuff about how he used to do bad things. He was the one on the news ten years ago, right? The news that everyone at school always talks about? I heard he was evil and killed a lot of-“

“Annie,” Maria said stiffly. “Go upstairs please. Your brother and I have would like to have grown up talk. Why don’t you go finish your homework?”

Annie began to protest, but fell short when she saw the tightness in her lips and complied without question. The girl slowly walked out of the room with her head down, knowing full well of her mother’s stare trained on her back as she left. 

The chatter and laughter that had once filled the home that morning grew cold. Tension quickly filled in its’ spot as it stiffened up the living room; silence accompanying it as well. All that was heard was Annie’s footsteps scurrying up the stairs before the sound of a door slamming shut rang throughout the house. Everything grew still after that.

“Peter.” She began after a while, her tone eerily calm. “You didn’t just come here for a visit, did you?” 

“Um, sort of.” The speedster said warily, clearly nervous by the way his foot tapped the floorboard at a high rate. “I kind of came here to talk as well.”

 

Ms. Maximoff sighed; she knew where this was going. “Is that all you came here for Peter? To talk? Nothing else?”

“Well, yeah.”

Ms. Maximoff narrowed her eyes on suspension before asking, “So what do you want to talk about Peter?”

 

Peter looked down at his feet for a moment, seeming to mule over something. Maria waited. He opened his mouth before decided against it and snapping his mouth shut. The silver-haired mutant seemed to debate with himself before shaking his head and speaking up.

“I came to talk about Erik.”

Ms. Maximoff felt a chill run down her back at the name. Specks of old memories threatened to fill her mind, making her see flashes of a face that looked so familiar, so loving, and then it felt as if these memories would spill over and flood her mind with nostalgia. Memories she’d rather not think of. No, memories she wouldn’t think of. 

“I’d rather not talk about him.” She said bluntly, saying “him” as if it were some sort of disease. And to her, it might as well be.

“But Mom-“

“No, Peter!” Maria snapped at her son, silencing him with a look. A searing hot anger quickly heated up in her core and her glare on him turned into raw fury. “I will not repeat this again. He will not be spoken about, mentioned, or thought of in this house.”

Peter seemed taken back by his mother’s sudden fury. His eyebrows furrowed, looking as if he were innocent for bringing another argument into this house, like he always did. He tilted his head with a look of confusion as he met his mother’s heated gaze. The silver-haired mutant continued to stare at her and Maria could see the gears turning in his head, as if he was thinking of what to do. 

Peter’s eyes were still glued to his mother’s, the furious look in her eyes seemingly immune to him. In a way, she knew he had gotten used to this- her lashing out with her sudden anger and burning a hole right into someone’s skull with her hatred. It was not a surprise really, not anymore. 

He’d always been the daring one as a child; very different from his sister, who was known by her cautious nature. From a young age, he was never afraid to throw a punch at anyone who mocked his silver hair or his beloved sister. It was a good characteristic to have, when he was younger. It wasn’t until he grew older that his boldness led him to do some unfortunate actions; hence his rebellious streak of stealing whatever he had the obvious balls to do. Maria had thought that was the worse of her problems, until he started asking about his father.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to her- seeing as she was his mother- for him to start asking about his heritage. She had expected it of course. It should have been obvious that he would want to know where he came from, why wouldn’t he?

Maria had never talked about him or anything at all about her children’s father. She didn’t want to, and for the most of their childhood, her kids didn’t ask. They unconsciously seemed to know it was a touchy subject for her. She wasn’t sure how though, but if she’d had to guess, it might have been her bad habits that had given it away. She wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing on how observant they had grown to be.

However, after years of faked ignorance, Peter grew tired of waiting for her to spill and asked the big question. 

“Who’s our dad?”

It was an innocent question, but the first time he’d asked that, Maria had dropped the stack of plates she’d just been washing. It was a shot out of the blue for her and the thought of answering both scared and angered her. She’d lashed out at him for asking, but he kept asking anyway.

It wasn’t until a few months later his relentless questions that she’d finally broken and told him something. His father could control metal and that he was very dangerous. Peter was shocked when she actually answered- more than she was- and it seemed to satisfy him for a while. But he still wanted to know more and she would not by any chance spill anything ever again.

She had to give him credit though, for being so relentless for answers. 

She would guess after years, Peter would quit in knowing more about his father. 

Yet when the man in question finally revealed himself, her son’s attention went from getting answers from her to finding them himself. Of course she was weary of her boy finding out that the man he had been searching for was not who he turned out to be, but she knew she couldn’t stop him even if she tried her damn hardest. 

A small part of her was relieved though. Finally, after years, Peter could stop nagging her for answers she didn’t want to give; memories she didn’t want to relive. The fear of opening up old wounds she had spent years covering up was horror to her, and no amount of drinking was going to numb it away; the cigarette’s burning feel would wash away at the thought of her buried memories. So to her, it was like winning the lottery.

Sadly, it turns out things were not in her favor. Peter was back with even more questions that she couldn’t give. What else did he need to know? Her son found the man he’d been searching for- knew him- and he still needed answers? How much more did he need to know before he was satisfied? Did God really hate her to keep tormenting her like this?

“I don’t understand, Mom.” Peter’s son snapped her out of her fearful thoughts. “It’s been years and you still can’t hear his name? I mean, I’m an adult now and you won’t even let Annie mention him. Do you really hate him that much to never let go of the past? I can understand you hating him for leaving us, but that’s history. Don’t you think it’s time to forgive him? I did, why can’t you?“

Ms. Maximoff stared in shock at her son. She couldn’t believe it. Did he really think something as simple as time could make her feel better? With a bitter laugh, she scoffed at her son. “Forgive him? Do you really think it’s that simple? I have my reasons Peter, reasons you wouldn’t understand.”

“Now, if you have nothing else to talk about, then I suggest you leave and come again tomorrow. I need time to cool off and I’m not in the mood to continue you visit.”

“But, what about Annie-“

“Annie can see you tomorrow. She has homework that’s not finished anyway.”

Maria watched as Peter gaped at her like a fish before his expression changed into an “are you serious” look. She narrowed her eyes at him to give him the sign the conversation was over. He didn’t move though, only stared at her with such intensity Maria wondered of this was the same cocky and immature boy she had raised.

“I’m not leaving, Mom. I’m tired of you ignoring my questions. I want you give me an answer- a reason- anything. Just tell me,” Peter said with worry in his voice. “What did Erik do to make you hate him that much?”

Something snapped inside of Maria as soon as Peter said his name. That forbidden, cursed name! Her anger returned tenfold as she fumed and her gaze turned back into a glare. She felt a fire start inside of her and she grinded her teeth in anger. The old wounds she tried so hard to cover up broke inside of her, and the emotions from them flooded her mind with numbing grief. Finally, after many years, she broke. 

“Hate? Why do I hate him? Why don’t you! He’s the reason for us living in this crappy house! He’s the reason for my unhappy life! He’s the reason I had to get so many jobs just to make a living! And let’s not mention the fact that he left me with two kids I had no idea how to raise! How do you think I felt when I found out I was pregnant with no support! I had no help from anyone, not even your own grandparents! I had no one; I was alone and I had to drop everything to be a parent for two kids I had no idea how to raise!” Hot tears welled up in the corner of Maria’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks as her strong tone turned into sobs. 

“You think that was the worse part? No, that doesn’t even begin to cover it! How do you think I felt when the kids I was trying my best to raise woke up with powers one day! You think I had any idea what to do? I had no idea what to do, how to help, so I did the best I could with what I knew to do! So you want someone to thank for your god-awful childhood, thank him! He’s the reason I had to try to dye your hair to cover up any silver strands so you could live a normal childhood. Try being the keyword! He’s the reason I had to steal medication from the only clinic that would hire me just so Wanda could sleep at night and not cause a scene! He’s the reason I had to lock you in your room whenever you tried running because if anyone saw you, it would mean you would get taken from me! And do you know how heartbreaking it was when I had to hear you cry from behind a door I had no chose but to lock? No, you don’t! And you wouldn’t have to know- I wouldn’t have to remember- if he’d been there! I could have raised you better, you could have had a normal childhood, and everything would have been better if he would have never walked out that door and left me!”

Maria chocked out the last part of her speech before she collapsed onto the chair behind her. All the feeling, the grief, she held bottled up for so many years finally spilled out. Peter finally got a straight answer for once since those years ago. She felt exposed now, open like a dissected frog in a science class, insides exposed for all to see. 

Peter hadn’t said a peep during her tantrum and she didn’t have the energy to see what he looked like now after she revealed so much to him. She’d expressed her feeling on the matter and now she didn’t know what to expect.

Silence filled the room once more as Maria sat mournfully on the chair. Peter still hadn’t said anything and it made Maria worry that she had overstepped her boundaries and hurt his feelings. His childhood was something she could have done better on, that was for sure. She felt guilty whenever she thought of how easy it was to raise Annie rather than Peter. 

“You were in love with him.” Peter spoke after what felt like forever. “You were in love with him and then he left you?”

He sounded as heartbroken as she was and Maria decided to look up at him. Peter reminded her of a kicked puppy, his eyes sad and his expression remorseful. The look he gave her was enough to break her heart all over again. She nodded sadly. 

“Is that why you haven’t forgiven him? Because he left you and broke your heart?”

Maria cringed at is words and sighed softly as she leaned forward, her hands clasped together in a thoughtful pose.

“I was in love with him and it did break my heart when he did, but it was something I should have come to terms with years and years ago. Instead, I took out all my sorrows on you by never telling you because I thought I was sparing you.” Maria began. “I thought I was sparing you of the sadness he left behind when he walked out that door, but I was really sparing myself.”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner who he was, for never forgiving him, and for not trying hard enough to give you a better future.”

Peter gave her a small smirk. “I didn’t turn out that bad. I mean, look at me now! You’re just being too hard on yourself. You did your best.”

Maria met his smirk with a smile of her own. “I could have done more though.”

 

“Also, you wanted to talk about your father.” Maria said before Peter could respond. “I think you could get more from him than me. You could have asked that Professor as well, but you asked me? Why is that, Peter?”

“You loved him in a different way than they did. And also, you never said much about Erik while they could give me a whole book about him. I felt like your words could say more about him than Raven or Charles could ever say.”

That statement caused Maria to chuckle. “Now where did those words come from? Since when did you become so mature, Peter?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Maria smiled at her son, suddenly happy again despite how she felt just minutes ago. “That’s not a question I need to answer.” Peter playfully glared at her and stuck out his tongue. 

 

Maria let out a laugh before regaining her composure and looking at her son with an air of seriousness. “I want to tell you something really quickly,” she said as the speedster met her eyes, giving her his full attention- something she was rather amazed at. “I don’t want you to blame Erik for what he did. It was because of my anger at him that caused me unhappiness for so long, I realize that now, and I don’t want that for you. I have a feeling you never did though. I guess forgiving him was easier for you, since you never really knew him like I did. But now that you want to know him, I need you to know him how I did. Erik is a good man when you see past his mistakes. He was an incredibly loyal person who always tries his best to be good, but can’t because he views everyone as a threat. I learned that from experience.   
He is a man with a never-ending determination, since he never could stop looking for his parents’ murderers. He may seem a bit evil because of his ideals, but he has the best intentions at heart. He fears of losing anyone he knows and loves, and that’s part of the reason why he left me at that time. He still had someone to find and he could never settle down with me knowing they were still out there. But remember this Peter, and remember it well. Erik is a man who will love someone with all of his heart and tries his best to never lose him or her. He’s lost so much now and he doesn’t want to lose anyone else, and that’s what makes it hard to really know him.”

Maria smiled sadly at Peter as she finished. She wasn’t sure what Peter expected to hear, but that was really all she could say. It took a long time for Erik to open up to her, much less return her affections towards him, and if he were still the same man she grew to love, Peter would have to learn patience. Something she knew wasn’t easy for him, but she knew he would try. After all, if he wants to bond with Erik, he should know it takes time.

“Now, changing subjects,” Maria said. “Are you staying for lunch? I know Annie would love it if you stayed and spend more time with you.”

Peter was musing on what she had told when she had asked him, and he immediately perked up. “Wha- Oh, yeah! Of course I’m staying for lunch! You can’t kick me out even if you tried!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! So sorry if there were grammar mistakes. I tried my best, but I have been working none stop writing this so I am very tired.
> 
> Also, anyone see Spiderman: Homecoming? I loved it and I really want to see it again! 
> 
>  
> 
> Quick question for you readers!
> 
> 1\. Would you like a flashback chapter for Maria?   
> It would be fun to write, but I want to know if you guys would enjoy that.
> 
> 2\. Would you guys like to see Wanda in this story?   
> I'm pretty curious if you guys would want that or not, so I decided to ask.


	12. Understand Her Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria felt like she had everything she could ever want: supportive parents, her dream job, a new life in the city. 
> 
> Yet when life gives her Erik Lehnsheer, for the first time in her life, Maria's world gets turned upside down- for better or for worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry for updating late! I meant to post a new chapter in December but I was in the midst of writing another fanfic and that took up most of my time. But hey! This chapter is much longer than what I've written before so please accept this as a peace offering!
> 
> Note: This chapter is about MARIA'S past, or in other words, how she met Erik. It was fun making up a backstory for her and I hope you like it as well. 
> 
> I rewrote this so many times and I have to say I am pretty happy with it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Word count: 12,041

  Pride.

 

  That’s what Maria first thought of when she stepped off that narrow stage, her crisp new diploma clutched tightly in her hand. A smile was beaming on her face as she brushed her hand over the paper she spent _years_ working for, feeling its delicate sleek surface and twirling the small red ribbon adorning it around her finger. The kick in her step took on a joyous skip just looking at it; she knew she would graduate sooner or later but to be here now- the evidence in her hand- was exhilarating. Waving joyously to her _old_ classmates, Maria thought that if she could glow, she was be dazzling like a star with happiness.

 

  Happiness- but also _pure relief_.

 

  Now, Maria knew nursing school would be a challenge with a lot of hard work, but she never expected such competitiveness to break out. Everywhere she turned in those bleak hallways, she was met with an atmosphere of pride and stuck-up personalities. It seemed like most of the women there were too busy trying to one-up each other than focus on learning to save lives. Honestly, the only thing that helped her survive that wretched place was through sheer determination or -as her mother most commonly called it- “stubbornness.”

  

  Well, let the devil be damned for labeling such a talent which such wrongness. As headstrong as she could be, it was her “stubbornness” that kept her going.

 

_Determination_ was the only thing she could count on during school. It had become her sword and her shield in the face of the overwhelming competitiveness and workload. Without it, the prize that she had worked so tirelessly for would not be locked in her grasp in this moment- and for that, Maria felt immense pride well up inside herself.

 

  And speaking of school, Maria was just in the middle of congratulating a fellow graduate with a handshake when a sudden shriek tore through the noisy crowd.

**_“Maria!”_ **

 

  A pair of arms hastily wrapped themselves around her neck, pulling the startled women close into a bear-crushing hug. Letting out a startled squeak, Maria jolted up at the sudden contact and tried to turn her head around the catch a glimpse of whoever was behind her.

 

  A hysterical older woman with graying hair was burying her head into Maria’s shoulder, shaking slightly with tremors. Tears leaked out of the older woman’s eyes, down her cheeks, and onto the thin material of Maria’s graduation gown. The small wet patch grew in a matter of moments and it wasn’t before long that the woman painfully pulled herself away from Maria, wiping her weepy eyes.

 

_“Oh, Maria!”_ The older woman sniffed. “I _knew_ this day was coming but I didn’t think it would come so fast! It feels like just yesterday you were taking your first steps and now here you are! You kids grow up so fast!”

 

_“Mom,”_ Maria said as she wrapped her arms around her mother in her own hug. “It’s okay! Today was meant to be a happy day, wasn’t it? After all, aren’t you glad I’m getting out of your hair and moving out?”

 

  “Of course we are!” A gray-haired man strolled over to stand beside Maria with a cheeky expression. “You drove us crazy! I didn’t even know I slept in the same house as a pig; who knew a woman like you could snore so loud! Maybe now we’ll have some peace and quiet.”

 

  “Dad!” Maria flustered, looking around frantically for any eavesdroppers. “Don’t say that kind of stuff out loud. People could be listening. And I don’t _snore_!”

 

   The man let out a barely concealed snicker as he felt his daughter’s heated glare bore onto him; he was completely immune to the fear it produced– it was, after all, the same thing his wife did to him on a daily basis. Speaking of his wife, the older woman was watching from the sideline, glaring at her husband in the same manner as her daughter for the commotion he was causing.

 

  Sadly, to the dismay of both women, what was once an innocent snicker had turned into a hearty laugh as the man held his stomach with calloused hands and doubled over. It was only from the grace that was her mother – another look followed by a light smack on the shoulder– that finally had her father grasping for air and fighting to control himself.

 

  Maria stood there watching the show with a faint feeling of embarrassment, glancing at her sides once more to make sure her fellow graduates hadn’t also seen the performance from her father. She smiled and laughed half-heartedly when she saw a few people looking over, fiddling with the diploma in her hands.

 

  Her father had calmed now, the last set of giggles dying away as a grin edged wide on his face goodheartedly, watching with amusement as Maria pouted at him, causing the gray-haired man to grin even further.

 

_God,_ her dad could be so embarrassing but he did have his moments.

 

  Dad has always been the uplifting one- bringing a smile onto anyone’s face with ease. It was kind of funny how different he was from her mother though.

 

  Her mother was the complete opposite. While the older woman was always the headstrong one, always the supporter, and took pride in the role of the strict parent. Her dad, on the other hand, was more laidback, a social butterfly willing to make friends with anyone he meets, and he was always the one to make a person’s day sunny again – it was one of the many things she admired about her dad. Her mother may have been the one to shape her up to the woman she could be proud of today, but it was her father that helped her look on the bright side of things.

   And as many differences as they had, they at least had one thing in common: their love for Maria.

 

  “Oh, Maria! We’re so proud of you!” Maria snapped out of her stupor as her mother seized the young woman into yet another overbearing hug with as much love and joy as she could muster. Air squeezed out of her lungs and face paling up a bit from the crushing hug, Maria could barely free her arms from the motherly affection. As much as she was going to miss the woman, her mother’s hugs were up for debate. Especially when she couldn’t _breathe_.

 

  “Alright sweetheart, I think Maria’s had enough hugs for today. Look at her. Ruth, you’re _killin’_ the poor girl.” Maria heard her father chide.

 

  “Oh - _hush you!”_

 

  After what felt like _ages,_ her mother finally pulled away from her daughter reluctantly, the older woman’s hands lingering on the young woman’s arms as if afraid to let go.

 

  “Oh, I can’t help it.” The older woman said to Maria, gazing at her as if reliving old memories from long ago. “I remember when you were just a baby and now you’re all grown up, ready to move on with live your life. Now, as your mother, I couldn’t be prouder of you than I am in this moment – and I always will be proud of you. But still, it’s hard for a parent to let go; I know you can make out there, I have no doubt, but a mother can worry.”

 

 Some of the light in Maria dimmed at her mother’s choice of words. “Mom…”

 

  “Now, now, there’s no need to dampen the mood with your _cheerful_ energy, honey.” Her father says jokingly, patting Maria on her shoulder in a soothing manner. “This is supposed to be a joyous occasion, not a sad one. Don’t let your mother bring you down, sweetheart. Think of it like this, you won’t have to spend any more time with your old folks, especially your mother.”

 

  “Harold!” Ruth exclaims and smacks her husband on the shoulder in mock anger; a soft smile on her face.

 

  Maria rolled her eyes fondly as her parents bickered, finding a sense of familiarity in the scene before her. It wouldn’t be long before she moved out and into the city, away from her mother’s love and her father’s warm spirit. But for now, she would enjoy these few moments of bone-crushing hugs and playful bickering that was her parents.

  

* * *

 

 

  “Are you sure you can’t stay for just one more night? Perhaps your father can call Mr. Mender and schedule a later date?” Ruth Maximoff pleads from the doorway, her face barely noticeable in the gloomy dark of the night. The beams of light from the moon did nothing to help resolve some clarity and relieve the blindness of Maria’s vision. The only source of light came from the faulty flickering light bulb hanging in the passage of the hallway, its glow illuminating the small silhouette that stood in the doorway. Maria looked her mother in the eye and shook her head in a final answer.

 

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” Her voice sounded too soft, too weak in her ears. “I have to go, you know this. It’s going to be a long ways travel to the city and I have to be there by next week. I can’t afford to stay any longer Mom. I promised Mr. Mender I would be there for this interview and I don’t want to take advantage of the fact that Mr. Mender and Dad are friends. Dad already got me this opportunity for this job, I don’t want to receive any more.”

 

  Even with the harsh obscurity blinding Maria’s eyes, she could still see the way Ruth’s face fell into such a sad state of sorrow and longing. She didn’t want to leave like this; with her mother looking so defeated.

 

  “Don’t worry about me Mom, I can do this. I’ve been studying my ass off for years working to become a nurse and thanks to Mr. Mender, that dream can come true.”

 

  Ruth sighed deeply as she gazed at Maria’s face, roaming over each and every detail of her face; the faint scar on her chin from when she tripped on the rocky sidewalk as a toddler, a gift of small gold studs adorning each ear from her grandparents, her father’s dimples, her brown eyes that mirrored her own.

 

  “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you,” Her mother said at last. “For your dreams to come true and _for you_ _to be happy_ …but it’s just so hard to see you go, off into the big city with nothing but a promise of a head start to help you. You could see why a mother will worry. I have no doubt you can do this, but still…” Her mother trailed off as she moved her gaze to the side, a look of fore longing in her eyes.

 

  Maria smiled softly. “Mom, please don’t worry! Nothing’s going to happen that I’ve never been prepared for. I was raised by a headstrong woman after all.”

 

  That caused a smile to bloom on her mother’s face. “You sure were, weren’t you? Okay, enough of this sappiness! You only have an hour to get to your train and I don’t want to hold you back more than I already have.”

 

  Maria nodded and turned around to take a step forward before she froze and faced her mother again. Quickly and with as much love as she could muster, Maria hugged her mother and buried her face in her shoulder. The scent of flowers and baked goods filled her nose and she breathed in deeply, never wanting to forget the nostalgia. She felt her mother stiffen with surprise before hugging her back in that same bone-crushing way that Maria always knew.

 

_“Oh, Maria.”_ Her mother whispered softly. “I know you’ll do great things over there. It’s going to be so much quieter with you not here, it makes me wish I had more time before you left.”

 

  Maria felt something wet hit the top of her head before she realized her mother was crying- if the sniffles were any indication enough.

 

  “Hey now, what’s going on out here?” A loud voice piped up from behind her mother, the recognition of who it was hitting Maria.

 

  “Hi, Dad,” Maria said as she reluctantly let go of her mother, facing upwards towards the old man looking back.

 

  Her father wore a smile, as usual, but there was something different. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and his wrinkles were far more noticeable in the dim night, making him look far older than he was. “Didn’t think you were going to say goodbye to your old man before you left? That hurts my feelings.”

 

  Maria let out a chuckle at the dramatized look of pain her father bore, feeling better than she had a few minutes ago. Without any hesitation, Maria pulled away from her mother and took a few steps forward, embracing her father. Immediately she felt her father wrap his own arms around her in a tight embrace and she took comfort in the warmth that only a father could give.

 

  “You’ll do amazing things, Sweetheart. I know you will because there is no one else out there with as much determination as you. _Well…_ besides your mother that is.” She heard her father laugh at the end and she didn’t even have to look up to know her mother was smiling.

 

  “I’ll miss your pig-like snores.”

 

  “Keep saying that and I won’t visit for Christmas.”

 

  Her dad smiled at her half heartened warning. “No promises.”

 

  Wiping away a few stray tears Maria never knew she had, she let go of her father and walked down the steps. Her luggage was right where she left it, by the mailbox on the edge of the porch.

 

  Maria couldn’t help but glance back at her childhood home, her parents looking like angels in the path of the dimly glowing light.

 

  “Bye, Mom and Dad! I’ll miss you!”

 

  Her father merely nodded at her in a farewell, while her mother looked over at her with barely contained nervousness in her eyes. Frantically, Ruth bellowed, “Don’t talk to strangers! And make sure you never walk out at night! And make sure you eat a full meal every day! And don’t forget to brush your teeth every night! And clean your clothes every day! And-“

 

  “Alright! Alright! Tell her anymore and I think her head will explode.” Her father chided as he shook his head in amusement.

 

  “What she said.”

 

  With a grin on her face, Maria walked off the lot of her home and headed her way to her train; a train that would take her to one-step closer to her dream.

 

* * *

 

 

  If she could describe New York with one word, it would be _cold._

  Not the cold that flows with the breeze and softly settles into the air like freshly fallen snow, its gradual chill sweeping over everyone and anyone in its path, leaving a pink nose as the only evidence of the graceful flow; the type of cold she’s used to in Virginia No, the cold here is stronger, flowing in its own right not with grace, but with a forceful shove that slams into anything in its way with its cruel wind. If wind could punch, it would be a power victorious enough to put even the greatest boxers to shame; its blows leaving a bitter chill running down the spines that even the bulkiest coats could not stop, turning noses red and chapped lips a dim shade of blue.

 

  Maria never thought she could hate a place because of its weather- of all things, she thought it would be the people.

 

  For all of her life up until college, Maria had lived in welcome silence in the far reaches of the rural acres making up Virginia, only receiving social interactions from neighbors and at the small school a few acres away from her home. It wasn’t a forced isolation on her part; she rather enjoyed it and if she wanted to talk to someone, Maria could always walk down the road and gossip with the neighbor’s daughter, Judy.

 

  To sum it up, Maria’s life in Virginia was peaceful and quiet- the complete opposite of New York.

 

  Here, it was _so loud_ : cars honked, trains drove by, and people chattered like there was no tomorrow. The streets were packed to the brim with passerby’s and there seemed to be no room to even walk from place to place, and because it was so crowded, people bumped and shouldered their way through the chaotic mess that was the city.

 

  Well, at least having so many people in one spot had one advantage: the crowded sidewalks added body heat to the little warmth the chilly air drove away from Maria.

 

  And that was the only advantage she could come up with, for the crowds _and_ the city.

 

  Oh well, no need to dwell on the dark side of things. Maria was here, in this crowded cold city, for a reason- and that reason was nearby.

 

  Even from the distance, Maria could smell the faint scent of chlorine and alcohol, its stench somewhat comforting. The crowds seemed to have sprung up even more roots as a hustle of people somehow appeared out of nowhere, shoulders bumping and shoes stomping. There was only one thing that this could mean: It meant she was getting close to the hospital, where there was no doubt that Mr. Mender was awaiting her.

 

  As grateful as Maria was to get the rare opportunity offered by her father’ old friend, she wished the hospital was in another part of the city- preferably one with _fewer_ people.

  

  At least the salary of a nurse would be enough to pay off all the student loans she had - sadly and reluctantly – received from the bank. While her start might not put her in a position to afford a nice house- since her _very amazing_ parents helped her pay for a small apartment in advance - she at least had enough to put bread on the table. One of the many perks of being single.

 

  Maria glanced at the cheap watch on her wrist and felt all the blood drain from her face. This couldn’t be right- she was sure she left early enough to make it- but it seemed that she was running late nonetheless. Ten minutes late.

 

  With panic pushing the adrenaline through her veins, Maria took in a shaky breath in a weak attempt to calm herself down as she rushed through the crowds, pushing and shoving through the crowd as if they were mere flies. And to Maria, they might as well be. An angry thought stormed its way into her head, muttering curses at the people she passed by in her vain attempt to get to work and glaring at any of them who dared to meet her eye. It was their fault after all, for making her so late- and on her first day nonetheless.

 

  No, no- she could do this. She’ll explain to Mr. Mender her reason and he’s sure to accept her ill excuse of an answer. She’s never been to the city after all- or any city as a matter of fact. Mr. Mender would- _will_ \- understand, she just knows it. Maria was, after all, the daughter of an old friend. She was overthinking this.

 

  The hospital was just around the block now; a block away from her dream, a block away from where all her hard work would be for something when she came from nothing.

 

  Here she go-

 

  A sudden bulky wall slammed into her just as she rounded the corner, her nose painfully squished against something broad and sturdy. The sudden impact had her breaking stride and stumbling backwards, tripping over her own two feet and landing rather harshly on her butt. Maria barely registered the small gasp that had escaped her lips the moment she met that cursed wall, but she did register the sound of an _“Oof!”_ coming from the supposed wall in front of her.

 

  As Maria soothingly rubbed her now-sore nose, she opened her eyes and set them into a glare. At the same time, the sound of scrapping leather reached her ears as the “wall” got up and quickly rushed to her side.

 

  “Miss? Are you all right? Forgive me for bumping into you, I’m in a bit of a rush and-“

 

   The wall stopped talking as Maria and the stranger met each other’s eyes. Her “wall” was not a not one made of stone, it turns out, but of muscle and important cloths that were clearly not from here. Perhaps they’re from Spain or China? Or maybe even France? Who knows, as Maria’s mind switched from his choice of clothing to his baby blue eyes she was currently glaring holes into. They were beautiful, she caught herself thinking, and her gaze quickly studied his face. His very handsome face, might she add, with a square jaw and five-o’clock shadow that was strangely attractive. His neatly combed hair was a lovely shade of brown and for a split second, Maria wondered what it would feel like if she ran her hand through it. There was no doubt she would mess up the neatness of it, but still….

 

  Realizing where her thoughts were going, Maria shook herself out of her stupor and rushed to her feet. Her mind was seemingly back on track as she briefly remembered the question this man and asked her.

  “Am I alright? I sure hope I am for your sake! You should really watch where you’re going, sir! So what if you’re running late- _so am I!”_ Maria snapped at the man as she glared right back into the man’s confused eyes, her gaze heated and angry. Such a perfect day it was for her, wasn’t it?

 

  The man looked slightly taken back, his expression questionable as he raised an eyebrow at Maria’s obvious aggression. After studying the woman for a moment, the man raised up his hands in a mock surrender, a small smile gracing his lips. He took a step back and bowed his head slightly in politeness. Maria felt her cheeks heat up at the form of apology and straightening her chin to appear more opposing- though it wouldn’t really do any good considering how much smaller she was then him.

 

  Instead of striking fear into his heart as she had intended, the man seemed to smile even wider at her attempt to frighten him. His eyes crinkled and the smile on his face changed into a smirk as he attempted to hide his amusement. He met her glare defiantly, as if it were merely humoring him rather than scaring him.

 

  “I apologize for bumping into you.” He began kindly, the smirk still present on his face. “It was clearly my fault. I was too busy rushing, and not quite looking, to notice anyone was coming my way. Much less someone like you.”

 

  _‘Someone like you.’_ The words were said with such softness that Maria’s head registered it as a compliment. She felt her cheeks heat up - and not wanting the man to see that his attempt to quell her anger had succeeded- Maria crossed her arms defiantly across her chest.

 

  “Just watch where you’re going next time,” She said bitterly, her gaze never wavering from his blue ones.

 

  “Of course. I’d say this interaction has taught me to be more careful next time.” Then the man smirks. “I’d also hate to be the next person to fall victim to your glare, the poor bastard would soil his pants from just a glare alone; if your words didn’t strike fear into him first.”

 

  Maria balked at the man; was he making _fun_ of her? Biting back the snarl that edged towards her teeth, Maria narrowed her gaze, as she was about to snap something foul in the man’s direction before he spoke again.

 

  “Well, I think it’s best I get going. It was a pleasure meeting you.” And then the man was gone, brushing past Maria and disappearing into the large crowd around them.

 

  Casting a lingering look behind her, Maria continued walking forward. She was twenty minutes late to her interview.

 

* * *

 

  The next time she sees him, it's in a less crowded area but a more questionable situation.

 

  She was stationed at the front desk, shadowing a senior staff member on the what-to-do and what-not-to-do procedures in the hospital. It wasn’t a hard thing to grasp, per say, but it was a lot to grasp in such a short amount of time. It was nothing like college, where Maria was given books upon books to study over and learn in the span of a few months. Working at the hospital, all she was given was a single lengthy, pamphlet-looking book that had _way_ too much information for her to memorize.

 

  She thought college would prepare her for the workforce, but it was a whole new ball field.

 

  Her senior staff member- Paula – was just in the middle of explaining what to do when a patient is bleeding out and there is no doctor around when the doors to the entrance opened and a man calmly strolled in.

 

  Paula turned towards the man, a smile plastered on her face when she froze and jumped out of her seat. Confused, Maria followed her gaze until her eyes landed on a rather familiar man, though she was more shocked by the large cut bleeding on his hand rather than the man himself.

 

  “Oh my- sir! Sir! Are you alright?” Paula shouted as she ran to the man’s side, grabbing his hand and giving it a critical eye.

 

  “I’m quite alright.” The man calmly stated. “I just needed help closing this wound. I tried stitching it myself a few times but it keeps opening back up.”

 

  Paula and Maria shot their heads up in sync at the man’s statement.

 

  “You _tried_ to close it back up! Sir, you _can’t do that, not with one hand!”_ Paula all but shouted in clear agitation, and if she were being honest with herself, Maria was too.

 

  Closing a wound with no medical experience? Was this man even a _doctor?_ Dear Lord, people in the cities were _weird_.

 

  “Um, Paula?” Maria whispered when her friend yanked the man away from the entrance and down the hall. “Is it even possible to close up a cut that large with only one hand.”  
  
  Paula sighed as she strolled over to a door, motioning Maria to open it for her as she pulled the man inside, sitting him down with a stern look and picking up a stray clipboard hanging on the wall next to her.

 

  Paula didn’t say a word, and it looked like Maria would never get one, as she scribbled a few words onto the paper in her hands. When she was done, Paula gave the man one last glare before she turned to Maria.

 

  “Keep him here, would you?” She muttered to the newbie. “That man looks pretty shady and I don’t want him leaving in case he turns out to be a criminal or something.”

 

  “I don’t think-“

 

  “Trust me,” Paula stated as she made her leave. “These days, you never know.”

 

  And with that, Paula was gone and Maria was stuck standing awkwardly in a room with a man she barely knew.

 

  The silence lingered there for a bit with neither of the two speaking before Maria grew annoyed by the quietness and looked over at the man curiously.

 

  “So,” She began. “We meet again- though I would have preferred it being in a much different circumstance.”

 

  The man nodded his head in agreement, his baby blue eyes holding Maria’s stare.

 

  “That would have been best.” HE said at last. “It’s a shame I made a fool of myself in the presence of such a lovely lady.”

 

  Maria’s mouth morphed into an agitated frown, eyeing the man with annoyance. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head too? If it didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me.”

 

  The man smirked. “Would that be such a bad thing? I don’t see how it can be offensive in anyway; I’m merely stating the facts.”

 

  Maria rolled her eyes at the man’s obvious attempts to flatter her. Honestly, this was just getting ridiculous, never mind how easy the conversation flowed. He was a stranger for Pete’s sake!

 

  “I am rather curious,” Maria said in an attempt to clear her thoughts. “How did you cut your hand so badly? I doubt it was from tripping on the sidewalk.

 

  The comment got her a snort in response, the man looking at her in amusement before he glances down at his hand.

 

  “In a rather… embarrassing accident. It was partly my fault as much as I hate to admit it.”

 

  Maria chose to ignore the audible pause he almost stumbled over in favor of asking something that had been lingering in her mind for some time now.

 

  “May I ask what your name is?”

 

  The man seemed a bit taken back by her personal question, but answered nonetheless.

 

  “…It’s Erik.” He said softly after a few seconds, the hesitation quite clear in his response. It made Maria suspicious but who was she to judge when she was the one to ask him such a question in the first place.

 

  Caught in her thought, Maria didn’t notice Erik had asked her a question until she heard someone clear their throat. “I’m sorry?” She asked hastily.

 

  “I asked what your name was. I gave you mine, it’s only fair I know yours, don’t you think?”

 

  Well, he wasn’t wrong, and a name never brought any harm so there was no danger in giving him hers.

 

  “It’s Maria.”

 

  Erik hummed as he looked over at her, seeming to ponder something in his head before he came to an agreement with himself.

 

  “I was wondering, Maria, if you could accompany me this evening- after I have this wound stitched up of course. I saw a diner not too far from here and I was planning on trying it out. Would you care to join me?”

 

  In a matter of seconds, Maria’s face burned scarlet as she blinked in the face of such a request. The invitation was bold and quick to the point in such a short amount of time that she didn’t know if she should agree or not. She hardly knew the man- as well as everyone in this crowded city – and she wasn’t really in such a hurry to find someone in a place she’d never been to before and she had enough on her plate already and-

 

  “My shift ends in thirty minutes.” Was what she said instead.

 

  Luckily, it was just the right amount of time for Paula to come back to treat Erik, a tired-looking doctor in tow.

 

* * *

 

  It becomes an everyday thing, seeing Erik on a daily basis.

 

  It’s funn _y_ how his company grows into such a normal occurrence to her- even after a few months- that it’s a foreign feeling to not see him walking beside her, to not feel the heat radiate off of him as he walks in step beside her. Though it is _confusing_ how she gets used to him so easily in every little thing he does: the way his arm presses against hers for the briefest of moments whenever the street gets too crowded, how his hand brushes against hers in fleeting moments, the way he smiles over at her- no more smirks – but gentle smiles, the ones that are cherished; the ones that are precious.

 

  And to her, they are the warmest and outranks all the beautiful moments she’s seen in her life.

 

  Since the first time they ate together in a diner, it became a part of her routine- their routine – and as odd as she finds it that they fit together so easily- like puzzle pieces -it isn’t. It feels as if he had become cemented in her life, all warm and content and _right_.

 

  A thought like that should scare her- how easily she can be at such ease with him; how the way he is in her eyes has become something more- but it doesn’t, not anymore.

 

  How could it?

 

  Maria has never felt this way about anyone she’s ever met. She has never felt the tingly butterflies in her stomach or the warm contentment sinking in her bone. She hasn’t seen anyone in this light before; in a spotlight that never dims down, even in a crowded street or in a dark hallway. She has never thought of someone in this warm funny way that makes her find him in any place she goes and give him all of her attention whenever he says the slightest thing.

 

  It doesn’t scare her and it never will.

 

* * *

 

 

  It’s a rare day when it happens.

 

  Though it isn’t common for Maria to have flexible lunch hours- working in a hospital, whether it be for years and experienced or a few month’s and unprompted, will have any employee busy as a bee – she knows it very uncommon for Erik to not have something as simple as a routine. As much as she sees Erik on a daily basis, the man is surprisingly busy with work _all the time_ ; going from this place to that in a matter of days from what he’s told her.

 

  Yet, it wasn’t as surprising as having the time to meet her every day for dinner, either too early or right on time. Maria can’t decide if it’s sheer luck he has the time to eat with her or sheer time management skills. If it’s the latter, she’s going to need to ask him how he does it because _boy does she need it_.

  

  But as far as time management/sheer luck goes, Erik’s here, sitting beside her on a thin, red cross-stitched pattern blanket as the God above decides to bless the day with bright warm sunshine and a clear cloudless day. And to just make the day even better, the wind blows just enough of a cool breeze to battle the tolerable heat, making the weather nice and comfortable.

  And that’s just how Maria feels as she sets up the lunch she packed for their picnic- well, really it was Erik who suggested spending one of their rare lunches with a picnic but she’s not one to complain, especially with this weather.

 

  As Maria sits back and nibbles on a cookie, enjoying the soft breeze brushing past her, she tilts her head towards Erik. The man was not far away from her, only sitting a few inches away, but Maria can still hear him angry mutter something in words foreign to her tongue. He’s gripping a letter tight in his grasp, his knuckles turning white. What the letter itself says is lost to her as well. From the looks of it, the words are just as foreign as the words ghosting past Erik’s lips but even she can tell that whatever it says must not be good.

 

  Perhaps it’s from his superiors from his job – she’s not sure where he works and he won’t tell her – and he’s getting a pay cut, which would be odd since the economy’s been well for the past few years.

 

  Shaking her head, Maria decides to not dwell on the thought any longer. This is a picnic after all and they should be relaxing on a fine day like this, _especially_ Erik.

 

  Smiling warmly at the man beside her, Maria grabs the corner of the page between her delicate fingers and yanks the letter out of Erik’s view. Her small intervention earns her an unamused look but Maria knows well enough now to not be bothered by it anymore. She only grins at him in response before placing the sheet on her other side, out of reach from the brooding man.

 

_“Maria,”_ Erik sighs, schooling his face into one of a stern expression, though they both know that won’t work on her. _“Please,_ give that back to me. It’s important business and I need to-“

 

  “Need to what? Waste my time by rereading that note for the next hour? You’re the one that suggested a picnic Erik, and if I were you, I would at least enjoy it.”

 

  Maria meets Erik’s glare with a defiant one of her own, crossing her arms in slight annoyance. The stalemate lasts for a mere moment before Erik sighs again, but this time, it’s out of defeat. Maria smiles at him in victory and gains a warm feeling in her chest when he smiles back.

 

  “Alright, you win.” He says as he leans back, a grin on his face. “I’m sorry for bringing work to our lunch. I thought it would be a quick matter, but it’s become rather frustrating.”

 

  “Oh? How so?”

 

  The smile drops off Erik’s face like it never existed and is replaced with a frown. “Well, it’s not something I’d rather discuss right now. It’s nothing too bad, just a man not cooperating and I have to somehow find him and make him…. negotiate with our terms.”

 

  That peaks Maria’s interest.

 

  “You’re a businessman?”

 

  Erik looks as if he’d rather have kept his mouth shut. “Yes, of sorts.”

 

  Maria leans forward, placing her snack down as she turns her attention towards Erik. “What is it you exactly do, if you don’t mind me asking.”

 

  “Nothing interesting, just money and business.”

 

  The vague response doesn’t even soothe the burning curiosity Maria has, but the subject is quickly diverted when Erik begins to speak again.

 

  “So, how’s the hospital been? It must have been rather busy by the way you’ve been complaining all week.”

 

  Maria laughs as she remembers her grim attitude earlier in the week. “Yes, it has been awfully busy. There are too many babies to count; the poor children have overcrowded the nursery and we had to move some of them into rooms just to accommodate for them. And that doesn’t even begin to count the number of rooms already taken by our other – _older_ – patients.”

 

  And just like that, the conversation flowed between them as they conversed about any topics that came to mind. It was funny to Maria how easy they could talk like this to one another, and as the minutes flew by and the bright sun of the day grew dimmer, she decided it must be a good thing happening between them. Despite only knowing the man for almost a year, she already couldn’t imagine spending a day without him.

 

  Call her a romantic for being such a sap, but she honestly could care less about any of that. She has never felt this way about anyone before.

 

  During their conversations, Maria had somehow drifted near Erik’s side, while he had drifted towards hers. Their hands were mere inches from each other and Maria could feel the ghost of the warmth from his hand on the tip of her fingers but she had hardly noticed it. In the mist of their moment, the talking stopped and the only thing she could focus on was the feeling of warmth settling on her skin, blocking away the now chilly breeze. Maria stared straight into his steely blue eyes, watching the colors swirl as the setting sun shined on his face and he stared straight back. Maria was spellbound; captivated by the way his skin was highlighted by the sun, framing his handsome face and brilliant eyes, despite the bagginess under his perfect eyes. His hair, which was normally so well-kept, was being tousled aside by the frenzy wind yet Erik didn’t make a move to fix it.

 

  To sum it all up, Erik looked tired, stressed, and yet somehow just as perfect.

 

  She didn’t know how long they stared at each other, perhaps a few minutes or a few seconds. All she knows is that as soon as he touched the tips of her fingers with his own, that the spell was somehow broken and Maria could feel a blush dusting her cheeks.

 

  She reached up to cup them- maybe to either hide them or try to at least dull the pink blush- when she felt a hand reach over and gently replace her hand with his own. Startled, Maria looked up into Erik’s dazzling blue eyes and was startled to see such raw emotion from them and as she took her time to decipher them, Erik had tugged her forward and pressed his lips against hers.

 

 They were warm and soft, just like the setting sun behind them.

 

* * *

 

  There’s a dull thud echoing in her ears, the sound so small and puny that Maria wonders with her half-awake brain if it were real or not.

 

  The sun is just peeking through the blinds of her window blinds when she wakes up, its rays washing over her bare skin like a warm blanket. _So warm_ , in fact, that Maria is tempted to fall back asleep again and not wake up for another hour, and with her open schedule, she just might.

  It’s days like this where she appreciates her off days as if they were precious droplets of water in a barren desert- which means that she appreciates them a lot.

 

  A rustle sounds from behind her and without a worry in the world, Maria rolls over to her side with a sleepy smile.

 

  “Leaving so soon, Erik?”

 

  The man pauses from where he’s seated, his shoes halfway up his foot at the sound of her voice. Shoving the shoe into its place, Erik stands up and leans over the bed, placing a kiss upon Maria’s forehead.

 

  “I’m afraid so, darling,” Erik mumbles into her ear. “Duty calls, as the saying goes. We’re meeting a client today and its crucial that I don’t miss it.”

 

   Maria pouts as she shuffles to sit up, resting her body weight on her arm. “Can’t you miss one day? I know you’re job is important but I’m pretty sure your superiors can handle just one day without you.”

 

  “I’m sorry, love. You know I can’t do that.”

 

  Maria sighs in disappointment before placing a soft smile on her lips. “Okay then, but come back soon. I hate it when you’re gone for so long.”

 

  “I know, and I’ll try not to be. Goodbye, my darling.”

 

  “Goodbye, Erik.”

 

  And he leaves, barely a sound as he closes the door, careful not to make a ruckus and disturb Maria’s sleep. Just the thought of him is like the sunbeams, warm and peaceful, and soon enough Maria drifts back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

  Maria can faintly hear the door closing just as she wakes up from another dreamless sleep. Her eyelids still feel like lead as she peers over her shoulder towards the obvious dent in her mattress; the spot still has heat lingering in the place where someone just was. Groggy but slowly gaining consciousness, Maria sighs softly.

 

  She thought Erik would have said goodbye before he left, but he must be in a hurry- again. It seems like he’s always someplace else nowadays.

 

  Peering sluggishly through the off-white blinds, Maria can faintly make out the small streams of pale yellow against the dark sky of the night. While she may not know the time, she can surely see that it’s early- _too early_ – and she wonders for the millionth time what in the world Erik does for a living.

 

* * *

 

  It’s late at night when he returns.

 

  Maria had just arrived home after a brutally long shift of filling out paperwork and checking up on cranky patients, her drained, already- dry patience making it hard not to snap at every single person that walks by her. For now though, she’s just glad that she’s finally heading home, though it can be hard sometimes. For a few weeks now, Maria has come home to an empty apartment and a cold bed; Erik has been traveling for work for a while now and the more times he’s gone, the longer he seems to be away.

 

 And while she hates it, Maria can’t bring it in herself to pester him about his work when he comes home to her with bags under his eyes and a frustrated frown stitched on his lips. All she can do in those moments is open her arms and welcome him home, so it’s no surprise when she hears the door slam close far into the night.

 

  She expects to be greeted by a tired smile and a dreary _“Hello, darling.”_ She doesn’t expect this.

 

  Erik is leaning heavily against the wooden doorframe, his facade an expression of coolness, but the huffs of breaths he takes each long second say otherwise. His hand is pressed up tightly against his shoulder; his brown trench coat dangles off his shoulder more than enough to reveal the stained red spreading across his white shirt.

 

  Maria stands there, shell-shocked by what she’s seeing before she’s moving across the room in a second.

 

  “What the hell, Erik?” She breathes, ghosting her hands over his wound, afraid of touching him in case she hurts him. Her nerves kick in and she can feel herself shaking as she stares at the ever-growing patch of red.

 

  “I can’t go to the hospital, not this time.” He grits out through clenched teeth. “I- I can’t explain why, but I need your help, Maria. Please, there’s no one I trust more.”

 

  With trembling hands, Maria gently lefts Erik’s hand away from his shoulder and almost gages at what she sees. There’s blood no doubt dripping from the hole in his shoulder, a deep gorge creating a crater in is flesh.

 

_Oh god, she feels sick._

 

  No, no. She has to help him; he just said the hospital wasn’t an option for whatever reason. He’s putting his trust in her to help and she’d be damned of she throws up and not try.

 

  Forcing her rising panic down her throat, Maria steels her nerves and takes a deep breath. She needs pain relievers if she’s going to do this along with something to bandage this wound up, and maybe some stitches. She may not be a doctor but she’s all too familiar with this sort of accidents- of this even was one.

 

  Not wasting a single moment, Maria none too gently maneuvers Erik into a seat in her small living room before she’s dashing off and destroying her house looking for supplies to close up his wound.

 

  When she gets back to him, her hands full of almost every type of alcohol she owns and the necessities, Erik’s face has gone ashen and his eyes are closing.

 

  “Don’t fall asleep on me, Erik,” Maria says as she taps his cheek to arouse him. “I need to treat this wound, and then you can sleep.”

 

  His only response to know that she’s been heard is a small nod. And that’s all she needs before she’s tearing long stripes of gauzes with her teeth and pressing a cloth of alcohol onto the dent in his shoulder. Immediately, Erik hisses and his eyes fly open.

 

  “Sorry, forgot to warn you,” Maria says without any apologetic tone. That'll teach him to scare her half to death, bleeding and almost dead on his feet and asking her for help _when he should go to the **fucking** hospital._

 

  “I deserved that.” He all but mumbles and Maria angrily agrees with that notion.

 

  Lifting the now bloody cloth away from his shoulder, Maria picks up some needle and thread and gets to work. She makes quick work of his shoulder, despite freaking out almost a few minutes ago, the red needle seeming to have a mind of its own as it stitches the wound close. Blood has painted her fingers with its crimson color by then, and just the sight of it brings back to panic Mara had choked down earlier.

 

  Why hadn’t he gone to the hospital? Why had he gone to her? Maria wasn’t a doctor, she didn’t know if she was even closing it right, but luckily she’s seen enough doctors do this to at least _know_ how to treat a _damn_ bloody bullet wound. How had he gotten that in the first place? Erik said he was on a business trip – one of many – and that he wouldn’t be coming back until next month. He must have gotten into a fight or some sort of accident, but with how deep into his shoulder it was launched in and the large spot of recently dried blood caking his skin. How had he even been able to travel _all_ the way back here?

 

  Erik’s business trips were always long and always took place within a few months. He always arrived late at night with a locked briefcase full of documents filled in a foreign language that he had never bothered to hide, knowing she couldn’t read German or French – _it’s how she knew it was even in there in the first place!_

 

  In other words, Erik’s is a man of organized time and patience, so to determinedly drag himself bloody and pale to her doorstep was something that was out of character for him.

 

  And it wasn’t just him that was confusing; it was everything that was confusing. He never told her about his parent, his childhood, or his job, even when she told him about the polar opposites that are her parents. She told him about the spring she used to visit with her next-door neighbor and how they would spend hours out there, finding frogs and throwing rocks across the creek. She told him about how hard it was to become a nurse and how, despite coming home bone tired, her favorite part of her job was caring for the babies.

 

  She told him everything and he told her nothing, and the newfound thought shoved a feeling of confusion so extreme that Maria had to stop putting on Erik’s gauze when her hands started shaking.

 

  Lost in thought, Maria didn’t notice Erik had shifted in his seat and reached out to her, his hand brushing the ide of her face. It was enough to stare her back into reality with a gasp.

 

  Unfazed, Erik murmured a “Thank you.” before he was out like a light, his head drooping down the chair he sat in.

 

  Maria stared at him sleeping in his awkward position before sighing and embracing the exhaustion sinking into her bones. She glanced around at the mess of bloody cloths and gauges littering her floor and made no move to clean up. Instead, she took up a spot on the floor right next to Erik’s chair, curling up into her knees and closing her eyes.

 

  She’d clean up later.

 

* * *

 

   Maria waits all day by Erik’s side, not knowing what to do or what to think. Seeing the man she loves dripping a puddle onto her doormat late at night with no explanation sent her into a mess of a puzzled shock. Maria desperately wants to know why he showed up on her doorstep, and why he was shot when he was supposed to be on a business trip, but all she can do right now is wait for answers.

 

  So she takes a day off work, something very unusual for her, and sits on a chair by Erik’s side with a book to pass the time and a meal ready for Erik when he wakes.

 

  Time seems to drag on as she reads one book- and then another, and then another- and by then the sun has dipped down into the night sky while the moon rises and accompanies the twinkling stars sprinkling the dark night.

 

  Maria is in a light slumber when she hears a groan from beside her and whips her head around to see why, and what she sees puts a smile on her face.

 

  Erik seems startled when he awakens, glancing with stone cold eyes around the small living room until his eyes reach hers. Obviously tired yet slightly confused, Erik tilts his head at her smile and makes an effort to sit up.

 

  “Careful,” Maria says as she moves to help him up. “You don’t want to reopen your stitches.”

 

  He looks at her with furrowed brows. “What happened?”

 

  “I can ask you the same thing.” She says, her smile dropping down into a frown. “You arrived on my doorstep half dead with a bullet wound digging into your shoulder. Mind telling me what that’s all about?”

 

  A look flashed through Erik’s face faster than she can blink and was gone before she could process it. He holds himself tenser than usual, a grimace decorating his lips as he tears his eyes away from hers to look at anything but Maria.

 

  Confused, Maria sighs deeply before she reaches out to touch his face. He’s hesitant to look at her, that much Maria can tell, but he looks at her anyway.

 

_“Erik.”_ She says softly, lifting her chin so he can meet his eyes better. “What’s going on?”

 

  And after a moment she adds, _“Please?”_

 

  Erik seems to deflate under her words and sighs as he tears himself away from her, seeming to ponder what to say.

 

  Finally, he looks at her again, this time with seeming to know exactly what to say as he reaches to caress her face.

 

  “Soon” Is all that leaves his mouth and Maria can’t help but clench her teeth at the answer. She did not wait all day to just hear _“Soon.”_ No, she needs more than that.

 

  “Erik-“She starts but is interrupted by a finger shushing her lips.

 

  “I promise I’ll tell you soon,” Erik says in earnest. “I promise.”

 

  Maria is unsure of that promise but accepts it nonetheless as she nods her head. He said he’ll tell her soon – He promised.

 

  “Okay,” She says as she leans into his touch. “Just- tell me. I can’t bear to not know what happened last night.”

 

  “And you will, just not right now.”

 

  Maria nods once more before she is pulled into a deep kiss.

 

* * *

 

 

  It’s already been a month after the incident and Maria still can’t wrap her head around what happened that night.

 

  It was a shock to see Erik so bloody- so weak – on her doorstep with a dent in his shoulder and a pleading look on his face as he begged her not to take him to the hospital. She doesn’t know why and the curiosity and worry is eating her alive and distracting her from performing her duties at work, so for her sake, _“Soon”_ better be _sooner._

 

  Well, mostly Erik’s sake because patience was never Maria’s strong suit, especially when the situation involved her lover getting shot.

 

  Maria sighs as she shifts the mountain of paperwork stacked and shoved into a corner of her small desk. The workload is utterly tiring and the coffee is doing nothing to help keep her up and doing much worse at calming her nerves.

  Perhaps she can get an early lunch and escape this hellish part of her job, maybe even bribe a coworker to do it for her. Heavens knows that if she stays here a minute longer writing words that have long since blurred together, she’ll go crazy with exhaustion and hunger- well, mostly hunger.

 

  Honestly, Maria feels like she can eat a horse and two cows on the side, which is odd considering she’s always been a light eater and even more odd when she even finds it appealing- though she has been having weird craving lately. Perhaps this job is changing her in some ways since being overworked and sleep deprived might do that to someone. Either way, Maria’s been having a streak of craving pancakes with a river of syrup from the diner down the street for the past few days and let hell burn over if anyone tries to stop her from getting some.

 

   “Hey, Maria! Are you okay? You’re spacing out again.” A voice pipes up from behind her and Maria is startled into looking behind her. Paula is standing there, an amused look on her face and a pen twirling in her fingers.

 

  Maria is quick to respond. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for asking. I was just wondering when lunch is. Lord help me if I have to stay here for another hour.”

 

  The woman huffs in agreement, nodding slightly in response. “I agree there. Paperwork was not what I signed up for when I became a nurse- even newborns are easier to handle than the torture they call work. But anyways, are you sure? You look like you could drop any second, and with the amount of paperwork you have, being dead won’t help your case.”

 

  Whatever her coworker is trying to do is doing its job as Maria grins at her friend and lets out a chuckle. The moment after that is silent, a quietness that drags on for what feels like minutes before the blond woman gives Maria a sweet smile.

 

  Then she frowns, her taking on a quizzical look- as if she were contemplating something. Paula eyed her friend with such intensity that Maria was wondering if there was something wrong with the way she was glancing at her body.

 

  Was she noticing the extra weight Maria had added? It really wasn’t that bad for her coworker to gaze at her like that, was it? She knew she was eating a bit more- mostly because of her cravings but that was normal, right? –And that she had gained a tad bit of weight, but she didn’t expect it to be so noticeable that her friend would be looking at her as if she had grown another head.

 

  Finally, Paula seemed satisfied with whatever she was looking for, and before Maria could open her mouth to ask her why, Paula beat her to it. However, what she said threw all Maria’s non-existing expectations out of the windows.

 

  _“Oh my God,_ _Maria!_ I didn’t know you were _expecting!_ That’s so cute! And from the looks of it, you’re pretty early too- not much to make it that noticeable- but noticeable to me! I do work in the nursing ward after all. Oh, tell me, tell me! Who’s the lucky guy-“

 

  Paula’s voice slowly became background noise, the words seeming to come in one ear and out the next. Maria’s train of thought stuck in cobwebs as she digested _those words_ so intently that she almost forgot to breathe. When she did, sucking in a sharp breath, Maria felt her world crashing down as she exhaled.

 

* * *

 

 

  Maria wasn’t sure how she did it, but she hid it well.

 

  In the span of three months, her belly had grown tremendously in size- though it was rather smaller than what she pictured but Paula had assured her that all woman had different belly sizes in pregnancy.

 

  Which was a good thing since she wanted to keep her pregnancy a secret. She didn’t tell anyone; not her parents and not even Erik.

 

  It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to or that she was ashamed of her child! No that wasn’t it; she was terrified of what to say or what to do, and it didn’t help that the support of her parents was so far away. And Erik….

  It was no surprise that he was the father. They _had_ exchanged in many activities other than kissing- and she had been with no other man other than him so there was no denying the obvious fact in her face.

 

  Yet, she couldn’t bear to tell him, not when he was never here anymore. It seemed as if his job was more important than her right now and she didn’t want that kind of man in her life if they didn’t work this out.

 

   So she decided to wait, to wait until he told her everything and paid the debt of trust she always gave to him. He told her he would explain everything soon and only then would that quench all the thirst of her curiosity and leave her with no doubts. Maybe then she could have the confidence to trust him to do something that would shatter his world as much as it did hers- so she could trust him once more to do something that she would have no inch of doubt in.

 

  To love this baby as much as she already did.

 

* * *

 

 

  It was late when he got home.

 

 She had watched the sky outside turn from a vibrant violet and blood orange to a deep magenta as she waited for him as the orchestra of crickets outside played their songs. She had sat there for so long in fact, that her legs had fallen asleep and gone numb to the point where it felt like she couldn’t move at all. But she didn’t really care- one could say she was used to this feeling. The feeling of learned patience and drained excitement.

 

  It faintly reminded Maria of her mother long ago, when the woman would sit in the dining room for days waiting for her father to come back from the war. They never knew when he would come home, alive or in a body bag. All they could do was cling to a thin string of hope until it turned into something false and pitiful.

 

  Yet, that’s what Maria felt like right now; desperate, scared, and just _wishing_ Erik didn’t come home again with a bullet buried inside him again. Her anxiety screamed at her to do something- eat, clean the kitchen, take a walk around the block - but she kept waiting for the sounds of a creaking door nonetheless.

 

  When he opened the door- _oh, so gently might she add_ \- she was glad and upset about his return home.

 

  “I’ve been waiting for you to arrive,” Maria said softly, sleep evident in her tone. “You’ve been gone for five months and I wasn’t sure if you were busy or even coming home or not. Then again, I never know when you come home now.”

 

  Erik had paused in the doorway, hand still pressed gently against the wooden door. At least he had the decency to look guilty when he heard her obviously tired voice. “I’m sorry I got home late, my darling, but I ran into a few things and I-“

 

  “You missed my birthday. And I know you can’t help it when you’re away, but I just thought-” Maria hated how her voice cracked at the end, but _Oh dear Lord_ was she so tired of never knowing when he would come home. She was so tired of never knowing where he was or what he did, and she was afraid one day, he would return in a body bag.

 

  She heard the shuffle of paper and plastic shift and she didn’t turn to look until a shadow covered her. Erik kneeled down in front of her with such a sad look on his face that she just had to meet his eyes to make them go away.

 

  “I know,” He said tenderly. “And I’m sorry. I feel terrible knowing you waiting so long to see me. Let me make it up to you.”

 

   And with that, a package was offered up to her. It was striped red with a pretty silk yellow bow adorned the top of it. It would have made her heart melt and coo at the thoughtfulness of such an obviously expensive present, but that wasn’t what she wanted.

 

  She wanted answers.

 

  “Erik,” she began, deliberately ignoring the present and squaring her shoulders. “I want to ask you something.

 

  Her tone had molded into steel strong enough to make even men as strong as Erik flinch as he dared to meet her eyes. He seemed uncertain in that moment, a bit confused, and…nervous.

 

   Maria almost wanted to drop whatever she was going to ask and switch topic at the raw look in his eyes, but the fear she felt and the questions that kept her up at night made her relentless in finding out the truth. She needed to know for the baby’s sake.

 

  “I know this may make you uncomfortable.” Maria continued after a moment, trying to ease her way to the truth. “But I must know Erik and you made a promise to tell me. Where do you go when you’re gone? Why are you gone for so long?” Why can’t I know? And why did you come home _bleeding to death?”_

 

   The room was silent and the air around her grew tense. It was as if the crickets chirping outside knew where this was going, as they had all hopped away. Maria felt unsettled with the silence and she secretly wanted to squirm in her seat, but she couldn’t. She must stay strong; a life was counting on her after all.

 

  With that in mind, Maria tightened her steely gaze onto the man kneeling before her, who was staring at anything but her.

 

  She waited. She waited as the clock ticked by each minute. She waited as the silence grew heavy. She waited until the electric air in the room was filled to the brim and she couldn’t take anymore. Fed up with how quiet it was and how silent he was, she snapped.

 

_“Erik!”_

 

  “No.”

 

  Erik snapped his eyes towards her own, stone blue eyes meeting brown ones with a clear challenge. What sort of challenge it was, she did not know. His mouth had drawn itself into a thin line and features screamed ‘Caution’

 

_‘Two can play at that game.’_

 

  “Yes, you will,” Maria growled, standing up after so long that her legs felt as strong as jelly, but she wouldn’t show weakness- not when she was _so close_. “You will tell me, Erik- _you promised_. Whether you like it or not, I have the right to know. I need to know where you go for so long! I need to know what you do! I need to know why you never tell me what you even do at your so-called _“job.”_ I want the truth, Erik. For me, and for-“

 

_“No.”_

 

  The pots and pans in her kitchen fly across the room to her living room, narrowly missing her and slamming against the far wall. The screws in the floorboards creaked and groaned as the metal strips in her chair curled outward like they sought freedom from her seat.

 

  The word was the same as last time, but the stone on his eyes had hardened to the strongest metal, burning down the now-soft steel in her eyes. His scowl had turned into a slight snarl, his features bursting with tension.

 

  Shocked at the powers he possessed, Maria felt her body tremble in terror as she looked wide-eyed at the ma she loved. She didn’t know _who_ he was anymore- or _what_ he was.

 

  Maria felt a strike of fear for the first time at the sheer display of his anger and looked away. She sank back into the chair, sagging her head down in shock. Hot angry tears brimmed at the edge of her eyes, because _damn it all_ she didn’t even know who the man she loved was anymore!

 

  She didn’t expect this.

 

  Maria didn’t notice she was weeping until she felt a thumb gently rub away her tears. Startled, she flinched back and turned away from Erik, yanking herself away from his touch.

 

   “I’m sorry, Maria.” The words passed by his lips so softly that she had to strain to hear it. “But if you knew what I did- _what I could do_ -you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

 

  Maria felt the blood drain from her face and sudden shill settle into her bones as she sat deadly still upon her seat. Her breath hitched and she felt her heart speed up, each thump sounding like bombs in her ears.

 

 She could tell he was waiting for a reaction or… something. She doesn’t say a word.

 

 After what feels like an eternity, Maria hears Erik speak, his voice a low husk as he whispers, “I’ll be back.”

 

  She hears him gently place the red box on the coffee table with a soft _thunk_ but it sounds like a hammer slamming down in her ears. She flinches without thought. If Erik notices, he doesn’t say or do anything. Maria doesn’t feel his gaze on her and glances up in a moment of curiosity. He has his eyes locked onto the box, not moving and maybe even not breathing. Yet his eyes, _oh the look in his sky-colored eyes…_

 

   It’s like a war raging inside his steely blues, fighting for action. Emotions dance and swirl as his eyes become shiny and strained. Red faintly bleeds through, showing the only feeling that dominates his heart. He is in pain- _he is hurting_ \- and she wants to get up and run to him. His expression is heartbreaking; what is he thinking to cause him to strain him this way?

 

  “Erik.” The name falls off her lips before she can stop, surprising herself at how she can even speak at all when she was frozen in fear a moment ago. It comes out as a barely audible whisper, soft like a petal in the wind. However, with the agonizing silence that has settled in the room, it’s enough for Erik to hear.

 

  “I just came by to drop off a present,” he says with a grave tone, his tone somewhat bitter and pained. “I have some more work to finish, and when I’m done, I’ll come back to you.”

 

  Maria doesn’t have time to react to his promise before he is out the house, the door shutting behind him. All that is left is an aching feeling in her heart and a conflict raging in her head. Would she welcome him back? After all that he had done- what he had done -would she still love him? Could she? Does she?

 

  Looking back at the present, an answer speaks in her head.

 

_Yes_.

 

  She would and she could never stop, and that sudden realization has her dropping to the floor crying out in pain, defeat, and heartbreak. All the emotions- the feelings, that night when he bled on her floor, the baby- came forth and Maria can’t take it anymore. The cap she had twisted on that imaginary bottles breaks and shatters as she cries and cries on the wooden ground. She screams in the pain in her heart and she sobs with the love she has lost.

 

  And worst of all, she doesn’t know what to do.

 

  Unconsciously, her hand drifts towards her belly, reaching for the life within in comfort.

 

  When all the tears are gone, Maria can only do one thing.

 

  She waits, and waits, and waits until she doesn’t have the will to ignore it anymore and reaches for the present still on her table. Ripping open the wrapped present with ease, she is greeted with the sight of a beautiful black and white photo sitting comfortably in the spacious box; Erik and her standing side by side with smiles on their faces.

 

  She clutches the photo in her hands all night, and when morning comes, Maria waits for Erik to come home.

 

 She continues to wait when she comes home from work, sitting by the door with a pitiful sense of deja vu.

 

 She waits after the week has passed.

 

 She waits after a month has passed.

 

 Then it becomes two months.

 

 Then four.

 

 Then six.

 

  She waits, even though she knows he is not coming back, not this time. After the six months come to an end, Maria stuffs the photo deep within a box so she can never look at it again and bottles up the pain once more before she goes on with her life. She leaves everything of him behind, the memories and the hopes and dreams of love, and she doesn’t look back.

 

 All that she takes with her is a broken heart, feeling it split into _two_ and sink lower and lower until it settles in the center of her womb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Did you enjoy it? It was a sucker to write and EDIT, but it was fun! 
> 
> In preparation for writing this, I did some research on the 1950's but I wasn't able to get much, no matter what I searched up. Please excuse any errors I made with the technology or lifestyles in that time period.
> 
> And head up, we're switching back to Erik in the next chapter!


	13. A War in His Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His days were filled with conflicting thoughts and an empty heart. He dreamed of nightmares that taunted what he once was- who he once was. He spends his day in a daze, feeling so far attached yet not caring at all. 
> 
> He lives like he's a dead man walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look at that! A new chapter uploaded in two months! Hurray!
> 
> Okay, so a little "note" of the way I wrote this chapter and depression. Now, I know I'm not the best writer- this is my first fic after all -so writing something this heavy was weird. I didn't know how to even explain it so I decided to write it based on my own experiences, though in a way that fit Erik.
> 
> For me, anxiety and depression come in pairs so that's how I wrote it for Erik.
> 
> Second "note," I wanted to write this chapter a different way- a more wordy and poetic way. 
> 
> This chapter was an experience to write and I hope you all enjoy.   
>  Thanks to everyone out there for keeping up with it, you've encouraged me to develop a hobby I never knew I could enjoy so much. So thank you!

  The marble-white chess piece swung triumphantly over the top of its pure black counterpart, slamming onto the checkered board below it. Its' small wooden frame vibrated with intensity as a sharp clang echoed through the large office. As if in celebration of the black knights' defeat, the white pawn wobbled on the black square it was slammed on, shaking from the momentum before it finally settled into a stop.

 

  Charles studied the chessboard with calculating eyes, only taking that one moment of capturing Erik’s knight to express his joy in a small smile. Tapping his fingers against the side of his chair in anticipation, the Professor glanced upward towards his opponent, muscle slightly tense as he waited for the man to make a move. Though instead of taking his turn, his old friend was merely looking out the large window adorning the office, seemingly oblivious to their game.

 

  However, the metal bender was _far_ from oblivious and Charles didn’t even have to read his thoughts to know that- not that he would, and without permission nonetheless.

 

  It was rather easy to tell if one knew where to look. The way his head was tilted ever so slightly, something Charles knew Erik did to show he was paying attention; how, while his eyes were trained on the outside world,  were full of focus and attention that obliviousness could never be glossed away. However, despite knowing Erik was not ignoring their game, there was something _clearly_ on his mind from the way he hadn’t moved to resume their game. It was times like this that Charles wished Erik would just tell him what was on his mind rather than think it over like he always did; it made him feel ironically powerless to not be able to know what was going on in one’s head and do nothing to help.

 

  As experienced as Charles was in reading a person as well as he was at reading their thoughts, Erik would always be that exception to hiding his true feelings with a schooled mask.

 

  In other words, Erik could be shot and still pull off bullshit of saying he was fine with a flippant, dismissive wave of his hand. It was a trait Charles admired and hated at the same time.

 

 With that fact in mind, the Professor knew it was futile to just _ask_ about his friend’s welling. He was going to have to take a different approach.

 

  “Erik, I’m sorry to interrupt your thoughts but I do believe we are in the middle of something," Charles said, watching as his friend forced his eyes away from the window. Erik seemed slightly startled at the sound of his voice; his eyes widening just a tad as he tried his best not to flinch at the sudden voice. Shaking his head, Erik rid himself of whatever daze he was in and looked over at the telepath.

 

  “Sorry, Charles. I didn’t realize you had already gone.” Erik said as he turned his attention back towards the board in front of them. “Now, where are we?”

 

  "Your turn," Charles answered with a pang of worry. They both knew he was lying; they both knew Erik was aware that Charles had already gone.

 

  What was it that made the metal bender so...unmotivated, absentminded- _whatever feeling it was._ Maybe if Charles asked just the right question in a _not-so-suspicious_ _way_ , he could get at least a _glimpse_ of that answer.

 

The telepath had only given his plan a moment of consideration before he threw it out the window _-_ Erik would see right through his plan. He might as well grab the bull right at its horns.

 

 “Are you feeling alright? We can stop the game and play another time if you’d like. As glad as I am that you are finally out of your room, I don't want you overwhelming yourself. Remember that you're still healing and what you're going through will time take to recover."

 

  Erik paused in reaching for a pawn as he listened to Charles’ words before he flicked a finger and a black horse moved across the board.

 

  “I have no idea what you mean.”

 

  Charles let out a sigh as he nudged a white pawn towards the edge. “Erik. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about- I’m a telepath, remember?”

 

  "Yes, a telepath. Last I checked, your power was _reading minds_ , _not_ _feelings._ ”

 

  Charles chose to ignore Erik’s comment as he rhythmically tapped on the wood of his chair, mulling over the options of things to say before he came to an agreement and gave his friend another few choice words to think over, though softer this time.

 

  “Look, Erik, I understand your reasons for not being honest with me. The things that have happened to you- the way you tried to move on…. I cannot describe what you must be feeling, old friend. I cannot even begin to understand the depths of your grief, even if I could go through your memories and pluck them out. But I do understand your denial- I went through the same ordeal myself, as you know. I understand that constant question of _“What else could I have done?”_ And I wished for the life of me that I could just do it, but I can’t and I had to accept that and-“

 

  "It's not just about what I could have done differently," Erik said, cutting off Charles in a whisper. “It’s about what I _should_ have done," Erik looked his friend in the eye now, his tone deadly calm. "I _do_ understand that I can’t change the past but what then?”

 

  Charles tilted his head, game forgotten now as the conversation turned serious. “What do you mean?”

 

  “You said to accept what’s happened- that I can’t go back and do things differently- but then what then? What do I look forward to? _What then, Charles?_ ”

 

  The telepath studied the metal bender sitting in front of him and internally grimaced in the sudden realization of _what_ was taken from this man.

 

  From all that Erik had done- from the burdens of lost lives he carried on his shoulders to the crimes he had done in the name of his past pain- it was taking its’ longer overdue toll on the man sitting in front of him. It wasn’t long ago that Erik had let Charles witness the raw ache in his heart for the family the metal bender had made, calling his wife _“an angel of a person who never should have loved someone as soiled as himself.”_ Then when she gave him his daughter, Erik had told Charles that out of all his years in trying to change the world, he never thought that would already see a perfect one in the eyes of his Nina.

 

  Charles could understand what Erik's little family in Poland meant to him; they were one of the only people who loved Erik for who he was, not hate him for what he had done.

 

  It was moments like these that Charles wished Magda and Nina never perished and leave a broken man to gather his pieces once more. Family was something that Erik cherished only to watch it unravel in his hands and not have the ability to do a thing about it; it was something he had always been afraid to gain in the glimpse that it could all be taken away from him once more. Charles was very fortunate that Erik let him and Raven back into his life- into his heart. Perhaps they- and others in the near future- could help Erik back onto his feet, help him back up without fear of denial.

 

  Yet, looking at the lost man in front of him, Charles knew that would take a while. Hell, it took himself a while to have faith in people in the distant past and for Erik, it might take a little longer. He was, after all, now a man who didn't know where his path was for the first time in a long time. And as much as the Professor hated to admit, time may be all Erik needs right now.

 

  Taking a deep breath through his nostrils, Charles cleared his throat in order to gain back Erik’s attention. “I have an idea,” He began with uncertainty. “And you don’t have to agree and you may feel horrified at the thought of it, but just hear me out.”

 

  Erik gave him a nod- which was good- but the Professor had a feeling it was more out of reflex than anything. It made Charles wonder if the man was willing to hear what he had to say of or he didn’t care at all. Maybe what he had to say next would change his view on things…

 

  "How does helping me with the school sound?”

 

  The Professor knew what the answer was before it was even given.

 

  “You and I both know the answer is no.”

 

  Charles sighed and nodded in agreement. "Yes, yes, I know. It wouldn't hurt to ask though. However…. hear me out at least? I know it's not one you want to hear and it may not be the best idea but it's something as of now."

 

  “You know I don’t mind you staying here for the time being, Erik- but everyone in this school has a duty to appraise, or a better wording for it, something to do.  Now, it’s not that you're not helpful- you're very much the opposite on the contrary- I just think that it might be a good idea to give you something to do. Think of it this way- in the past and for as long as I've known you, you've always been a man with a goal in mind, ignoring the fact that most of those goals were not…. _the best decisions."_ That got a snort out of Erik. "After everything that's happened and now that things are calming down for us, I don't think you enjoy doing nothing, do you? And I'm pretty sure it doesn't help your state of mind either; it didn’t help me when I locked myself in this mansion long ago. I understand that this is not a field you’ve worked in but it’s one that can perhaps get your mind off things. Now, that’s all I have to say. Do you have any thoughts?”

 

  Erik stared at the man across from him, his eyes guarded and unreadable- something Charles was unfamiliar with yet not at the same time. Erik's stare never wavered from Charles, and they stayed like that for what felt like forever- so much time, in fact, that the Professor was sure he could see the gears turning in the metal bender's head. 

 

   When their unspoken argument was broken, Erik squared his jaw and gave his response.

 

  “Thank you for the offer.” He said softly. “But I will not accept. If you think of me as some lost mutt thrown into the streets in need of pity, I will not contemplate accepting. I have already told you, I am fine- I don’t need something to do, and as skillful I am in numerous fields, I don’t have the utter idea on how to help you run a _school._ So thank you again for trying, Charles, but I am perfectly fine _mentally_.”

 

  “Alright then,” Charles said after a moment, not mentioning the blatant lie that was uttered. "It was just a suggestion after all. I wouldn’t want you doing anything you wouldn’t want to do.”

 

  Erik nodded his thanks before they continued where they left off in their game.

 

  The room was silent as they played- not an awkward one but one of forced comfortable one as both men erased their troubling thoughts and focused on the chess game in front of them. Time seemed to fly by as the two friends played on, their minds calculating and imagining tricks of confusion that would bewilder the other. As the wood clanked down on the checkered board, the silence in the room became joined by contentedness, the men speaking their own language as they exchanged mischievous glances and frustrated sighs at the heated game between two distinct minds.

 

 In the midst of their game, the door to the office burst open, causing two heads to snap up at the intrusion to greet the newcomer. A lithe blue woman strolled in with the grace of a cat and an air of confidence, seemingly uncaring that she disturbed a rather intense game of chess. Rolling her eyes at the glares the men shot her, Raven huffed a small chuckle as she made her way over to Charles seat, leaning on the arm of the chair and raising an eyebrow at the annoyed look she knew so well.

 

  “What?” Mystique said, meeting her brother’s gaze nonchalantly. “Can’t a woman come to see her brother?”

 

  “You can, Raven, but you could have at least _knocked_ first-“

 

  “Why should I when you can sense when I arrive? It’s not like that game’s the most interesting thing in the world. The kids have shown me far better, mostly Peter though.”

 

  “ _Not interesting!_ Raven! This game may not be the most appealing but its challenging and competitive and-“

 

  “And for old men.” The blue woman interrupted, sending a smirk towards the telepath as he shook his head and looked away, though Raven could see the small smile the man tried to hide.

 

  “Hello, Raven. I hope you were having a splendid day.” Erik drawled in his late greeting, leaning back into his seat. “How are the _kids_ faring?”

 

  Raven looked over at the metal bender, a fond huff escaping her lips. “Oh, the _kids_? They’re fine, training’s going really well- except they haven’t grasped the concept of _teamwork_ _or leadership_ yet. Ever since I decided to appoint Scott has the unofficial leader of the team, he’s been very unconfident in his new role. He keeps changing plans halfway in the session and Jean and Ororo get aggravated at him for that, which results in no communication and full-on disaster on both sides.”

 

  “Kurt, on the other hand, doesn’t mind following orders-when there are any.” The blue woman ranted. “His problem is in the offense; he doesn’t have the heart to throw a punch or fight in general. The kid just has too soft of a heart to throw a punch without some sort of regret, and it's not that I  want him to get a little violent, it’s just the fact that if the real deal shows up, what will he do in serious situations?”

 

  Charles hummed in thought and patted his foster sister’s hand in comfort. “I agree there’s nothing wrong with Kurt, though it is disheartening to see how good he is- all of them. I sincerely hope nothing does show up; those children may have fought Apocalypse but I would rather them not fight for a while.”

 

  Raven sighed as she squeezed Charles hand in return. “Yeah, I know. They’re good kids and I wouldn’t wish a battle onto them for a while. I don’t want them to be like we were, fighting at such a young age, I want it to be different for them. I want them to be teenagers for while- annoying and a pain in my ass.”

 

  Nodding in agreement, the telepath shot a quick glance at Erik before he spoke again. “By the way, how is Peter faring so far?”

 

  The blue woman tried her best to hide her snort as she looked at Charles in a meaningful way. “Peter? He’s doing well but the man has quite the ego. He runs in before Scott even has a plan, and if there is a plan, he doesn’t stay still enough to listen- something about being too excited from what he told me. Honestly, I sometimes doubt he’s an adult.”

 

  “While his speed does help his teammates when they need him, he relies on it _too_ much. It makes him cocky. Seriously, if he doesn't stop for _once_ in his life, he's going to have my handprint engraved in his head." Raven pinched her nose in agitation as she finished ranting her stress off. She knew training the X-Men wasn’t going to be easy but she never expected there to be so many problems.

 

  "Well, that's Peter for you," Charles said with a barely concealed smile on his face.

 

  “But in all seriousness,” Raven said, the amusement in her voice dying. “The team is doing well considering how long we’ve been training for. And while they do have things to work on, I just have to remind myself that it’s normal, though that doesn’t ease my worry. Peter’s the only one I don’t have to worry about this with since he’s an adult but that doesn’t lessen the load. I know all of them can hold their own in a fight but that doesn’t mean they can win them. Until they understand how to function in a team, who knows what will happen when something big shows up.”

 

  Charles laid a hand under his chin in a pondering posture, his brows furrowed in thought. “I agree with you on your worries, Raven. You’re right in acknowledging that most of the X-Men are kids, teenagers even, who only just met a few months ago- Scott and Ororo haven’t even adjusted to their newfound powers yet.”

 

  Charles was quiet for a moment as he mulled over what to say next, since it was quite obvious Raven had not just come to rant, she had also come seeking advice on the matter.

 

  “The thing is, as much as you want these kids to be battle ready, it just won’t happen. I know you’re worried about them and their training, but I assure you when the time comes, they will be able to handle themselves.”

 

  Raven sighed sharply when Charles finished speaking, pushing off of Charles’ seat and pacing the room in agitated steps. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she raked a hand through her thin sleek hair.

 

  “And what if that time comes sooner than you think- than we think. As much as I don’t want to turn these kids into the first X-Men, I don’t want them getting hurt over something so pointless as a squabble.”

 

  Raven stopped her pacing to look her brother dead in the eyes, allowing all her fears and anxiety to show as clear in her eyes as it was in her head. Charles, for the most part, understood her worries but before he could respond, Erik stepped in with a few choice words of his own.

 

  “Then make sure something like that doesn’t happen.” The metal bender said bluntly as he looked out the window, a stern expression on his face. “Make sure they’re ready, and while they will not be the perfect team you picture in your head, at least train them enough so that they can hold their ground in extreme cases. And by that I don’t mean for victory, I mean for survival.”

 

 

  “Erik, that seems rather-“

 

  “Charles,” Erik said as he turned his focus from the window to his friend. “Those _“children”_ you speak of are on a team made to protect this school and they stopped being children when they went up against Apocalypse- that’s not even counting Peter, who is a grown adult that chose to help. Don’t get me wrong, old friend, I understand your worries about how young this team is but understand _mine_. That team may not be able to work together when the time comes but they will at least know how to stay alive during one.

  
  With missing a beat, Erik turned his attention to Raven. “The same goes for you; I sympathize with your fears but I don’t agree that we baby them. Yes, they went up against Apocalypse and won but  _just barely_ and with our help. What will happen if we just send them into a serious fight with no proper leadership? You've already said the team's lacking in a strong leadership, and a weak leadership equals a lack of teamwork. So, while we can’t teach Scott to magically gain some leadership skills, we can at least train the team with something else. When the enemy has them pinned, teach them to break free. When they have no one beside them to help them in battle, teach them to fight dirty: use their fingers to gorge their eyes, use their powers to their advantage alone. When they have no other option, teach them to _kill_ , so that it won’t be their lives taken instead.”   

 

  Charles stared at the metal bender with a frown to show his discomfort, the speech Erik so passionately lectured them on ringing harshly in his ears.

 

  It was times like this that reminded the telepath on how different he and the metal bender were; one born from a life of comfort and one born from survival. Years of a childhood with caring parents and a good home gave Charles a choice of pursuing what he wanted to in life, and with Raven at his side- another mutant to grow up with – it gave him a purpose that crafted him into the Professor his students knew today.

 

  Yet with Erik, he never got a choice. While he didn’t have the luxurious home Charles had, he did have loving parents that made it all worth it- until it was taken away because of the gift he was born with. A gift that turned him into a science experiment- a weapon created out of violence. And if that wasn’t worse, Erik never had anyone else with him to help him in his early life. He grew up alone with the sole forced purpose of survival and vengeance.

 

   In a way, Erik's head was stuck in a war while Charles' was as in a dream.

 

 Erik’s beliefs clashed very much with Charles’; blunter and offensive to the sympathetic and defensive. So while Erik was very different from Charles in ideals and experience, it was something the telepath was hoping to learn from now that they were in the relationship they were in.

 

  With that in mind, the Professor took a deep breath before steeling himself to avoid a fight as he met Erik’s eyes.

 

  “I understand what you’re proposing,” He started. “But your ideas are a bit extreme when we are in a moment of peace. Erik, we’re not living in a time of war or tension. While I know Apocalypse came rather out of the blue, that’s over and done with. We are living in a moment of peace, people are starting to sympathies the idea of mutant equality and I just don’t think we need to treat these children like soldiers. We should enjoy this rare moment and take things slow, at least for now.”

 

  “I’m not proposing we train them like _soldiers.”_ Erik interrupted sharply, an agitated look in his blue eyes. “I’m just saying that maybe we at least get them ready for the possibility of an extreme situation involving either one of them being cornered or alone. They should be prepared for the worse.”

 

  Charles was ready to scold the metal bender for thinking such things- he had a whole lecture planned out- when all of a sudden something _clicked_ as if the pieces of an unknown puzzle he didn't know he was solving slid right into place- letting him see the _real_ picture.

 

  _“Erik,”_ Charles said softly, understanding dawning onto him. “Are you truly worried that the X-Men will not be able to handle themselves? Or are you worried that these kids will share the same fate as your wife and daughter?”

 

   It was just a sudden thought but the flinch Erik struggled to cover up was just enough to know just how right Charles was.

  Magda and Nina were two innocent victims taken by surprise and inexperienced in defending themselves; the Professor was beginning to understand the metal bender's reasoning for worrying, whether the man knew it or not.

 

 Erik straightens himself in his seat, playing off the moment of weakness. He was trying to act like nothing happened but the action he performed out of instinct said everything Charles needed to know. However, that didn’t mean Erik was persuaded otherwise.

 

  “They should prepare for the worse.” The metal bender repeated, meeting the Professor’s eyes.

 

  Raven sighed from her spot next to Charles chair, startling the telepath as he had forgotten she was there. “I’m sorry, Erik.” She said after a moment. “I understand why you think it would be a good idea but I don’t want to train these kids to… _fight or die_. It’s not the path I want to lead them on- and do you want to know what would happen if I _did_ listen to you?  All of them- even Peter- would probably become paranoid because the way you want me to train them- it’s teaching them to always look behind their back, to always be alert, to never trust anyone for fear of someone stabbing them in the back. That’s the price of preparing for the worse. It’s like telling them they’ll _never be safe_. I don’t want to do that to them. Please, understand that, Erik.”

 

  As if sensing her discomfort, Charles places a comforting hand on his adoptive sister’s arm. Raven gave him a brief smile before turning her attention back to Erik, who was back to staring out the window.

 

  The two siblings shared another glance once more, this time out of worry. Erik had always been the one to go for the offense- strike the enemy before they strike you- but this time it was something more if the metal bender's actions earlier were any indication. And seeing as how Raven saw it too- saw how Erik was willing to train a team consisting of mostly teenagers to fight in the most savage ways- it was very concerning.

 

  For the Professor, it was a reminder of just how broken Erik was. It made him second guess if time really could help Erik through whatever hell he was creating for himself, or if Charles could ever help his old friend at all.  

 

   There were plenty of times where he wasable to help the man in front of him. Some mornings, Erik wouldn't even get out of bed without coaxing. Some mornings, he wouldn't even get up at all despite the Professor's best efforts. And what was even worse was that no one really knew just how much Erik struggled. It was as if all those burdens Erik carried on his shoulders all his life was finally getting to him, bringing forth a silent pain that reeked of despair.

 

  Glancing up at his sister to see a similar distressed look on her face, Charles sighed inwardly as he readied himself to try and find just the right words to help his friend- and then the door slammed open.

 

  _“There you are!”_ A certain speedster yelled as he threw his hands into the air in an exaggerated manner. I’ve been looking all over for you! Jeez Raven, for someone as strict as yourself, you really don’t take your own advice- _like showing up for training on time_.”

 

 Raven muttered a quiet yet audible _“Shit.”_ and strolled over to Peter to give him a greeting in the form of a slap on the head, all while Charles busied himself with shaking off his surprise though not before taking a quick peek to see how Erik fared.

 

  Just as he expected, Erik had put up his walls; the emotions that were so freely displayed moments ago were now shoved away in favor of a blank expression. Honestly, Charles wasn’t sure whether to be dismayed or amazed at how quick his friend was at putting up his mental walls.

 

  Seeing the telepath glancing at him, Erik briefly met his eyes and Charles was surprised to see the nervous frown the metal bender wore. That was odd, even for Erik- what did he have to be nervous about?

 

  _“Ow!_ What the hell was that for?” Peter said with a bewildered look on his face, leaning away from Raven to rub the back of his head.

 

  “That was for barging in here without knocking. We could have been discussing nuclear launch codes for all you know.” Raven sneered as she glared at Peter.

 

  "Well, Jesus! _Sorry!_ If I'd known I would get this kind of hello, I would have sent Scott up here instead." Peter mumbled, still rubbing his head.

 

  “You make me wish you would have.”

 

  Peter flashed a smile at the comment, the smack he received now forgotten as he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. _“Ha!_ Yeah right! I got antsy the first five minute you didn’t show up, did you really think I would stand around for another-“

 

  It was then that Peter noticed the other two men sitting at the far end of the room.

 

  “Oh, hey! I didn't see you guys there." The silver-haired mutant said as he beamed at the two men, his conversation with Raven now forgotten as he walked over to where they sat with an unfinished chess game. He paused when his eyes found the chessboard and raised an eyebrow at the two.

 

  “Chess again? Don’t you ever get bored of that?” Peter huffed as he flickered his gaze between them, oblivious to the sigh Raven released.

 

  Charles opened his mouth to answer before a rush of wind smacked him in the face and he immediately looked around wildly when he noticed the young man wasn’t there anymore. On the chessboard in front of him, a few knights had toppled over by the force of the sudden wind, one black queen hanging precariously over the edge.

 

  A hand appeared just as it decided to fall off the table, snatching the piece midair with ease. Peter turned the piece over and over as he looked at it curiously, frowning slightly as he placed it back on the side of the table.

 

  "I still don't get the fun in chess. I mean, don't you just sit in a chair all day just to finish one game? I swear, how are you two not going grey in the hair yet."

 

  That comment earned a snort from Erik that he oh-so tried to hide and failed so miserably. Charles, on the other hand, looked slightly offended though the grin he wore said otherwise.

 

  "Oh, _hardy-har-har."_ Raven mocks as she rolls her eyes. "Come on, Peter. Let's get back to the danger room before the kids get impatient."

 

  "Hold up now! At least give me a second." Peter said as he quickly zipped away before his mentor could drag him off, though his quick movements rattled the checkerboard, causing the pieces to tremble and fall on their sides.

 

  "Peter, _you_ were the one you said I was running late. Now, come on before I drag you back by the ear."

 

  _"What?_ Hang on! It's not like I'm doing anything bad. I just going to chat with the Professor really quick- besides it's not like we can be any later than we already are, which is _your_ fault by the way." At the unamused look the blue woman gave him, the speedster was quick to add, "Come on, it won't take long."

 

  Raven response was to roll her eyes and cross her arms, motioning with her head to hurry up and say his peace- or whatever he had ready to rush out of his mouth.

 

  Peter clearly took this as a sign of victory and grinned triumphantly before turning back around towards the two men, arms crossed behind his head in a laidback manner. _"Holy shit,_ I didn't think she would actually _let_ me- I just wanted to see what she would say. You have no idea how easy it is to get her riled up- or maybe you do seeing as she's your sister. She's your sister, right? I don't know much about genetics but whatever- anyways, how long have you two been playing this game? Wait- Don't answer that. I feel like if you were to tell me how long, I would get all antsy again."

 

  Charles nodded along politely, but internally, he was still trying to catch up on whatever speed Peter chose to talk in today. As entertaining as the young man could be, he could be a handful to keep up. Most times, being the trickster he is, Peter only talked at this speed either for fun or for a reaction- Lord knows how much the man loved seeing the confused look on people's faces when he went on a tangent, which was amusing to watch if the Professor were to admit it. Just not when it was directed at him.

 

 Still, it made Charles wonder just how fast the man's thought process was; it must be extraordinarily fast if Peter could switch from one topic to the next in the span of one minute.

 

  Which he seemed to be doing right now.

 

  "-and then Scott changed the whole plan like usual and left us completely confused. I tell you, if he does something like that today, I'm dropping him off in Alaska."

 

  That Charles was able to process. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

 

  "Fine, I'll just drop him off in New Mexico- he might like it there."

 

  "That's not a better option, Peter-"

 

  "A better option? I'll give you a better option- for this game! I honestly don't know how you two old men can sit here for hours moving wood. Listen, I've played my fair share of games and I can name twenty of them off the top of my head. If you need recommendations, I'm your guy. Speaking of games, have you ever heard of Pac-"

 

  "I appreciate your suggestion, but I think we'll stick to chess," Charles said hastily- as much as he was willing to listen to his students' input, the Professor was fine with a simple game of chess.

 

  _"Fine."_ Peter huffed, deflating slightly before he bounced back and turned his attention towards Erik, who raised both eyebrows in return for Peter's shift in attention.

 

  An expression so simple would have meant nothing to someone who hadn't known the metal bender for years but to Charles, such a simple gesture could never hide the emotions hiding behind the wall of indifference.

 

  If one knew where to look, it wouldn't be too hard to spot the signs; pale-knuckled hands clenching the chair with a little too much strength, feet tapping the wooden floors with light, subtle movements, eyebrows drawn up just a tad with eyes a little too wide, a frown forcing itself upon his lips. If Charles knew any better, he would think Erik was anxious - had been all this time- and with what happened earlier, the telepath could understand.

 

  Yet the Professor didn't think that was all; from the way Erik regarded Peter, he knew there must have been something to cause his friend to worry so visibly.

 

  Then it hit him and Charles cursed inwardly at himself for being so forgetful: Erik's last episode involving him and a sinful bottle. The same one he tried to throw at Peter that day. The two hadn't seen- or spoken to for that matter - since that very unfortunate day.

 

  Of course, no wonder Erik as so nervous; he was afraid of how Peter would act towards him, considering that besides himself, Raven, and surprisingly Hank, Peter was the only one to treat Erik like a person rather than a threat.

 

 After all, Erik's past actions were not easily forgotten.

 

  "You should totally consider it," Startled from his thoughts, Charles focuses his attention back onto Peter, who is in the middle of a one-sided conversation with Erik. Keeping in mind to stay involved with the young man's conversation- since it would be rude to ignore him- the Professor glanced back from the speedster to the metal bender.

 

  "I'm dead serious." The silver-haired man continues, not noticing that he had lost Charles not too long ago. "Now that you're not really in hiding anymore, I'd say this is the perfect opportunity to get you into the _cool_  shit nowadays because let me tell you- only old people play chess."

 

  "As you've told us- multiple times," Erik drawled, and Charles can't help but notice how some of the tension leaves his friend's shoulders.

 

  _'Good,'_ The Professor thinks, _'He's beginning to understand. One mistake won't drive anyone away.'_

 

  If only Erik understood more; if only he understood what shoving his emotions down did to him, how it hurt in ways that weren't physical but mental. If only he understood what it did to the people around him, how much they stress over him when he doesn't talk for hours- or days.

 

  In the corner of his eye, Charles sees Peter shrugs grins mischievously at the metal bender. "I mean if the shoe fits..."

 

  On the table below them, black and white pieces of each color rise up gracefully, lifting up as if they were attached to strings. Erik doesn't attempt to hide his smirk as he pointedly glares at Peter, who continues to grin cheekily with his arms still behind his head in a lazy manner before in one fluid motion, the chess pieces launch themselves towards the mutant. Charles watches on without a shred of worry as Peter takes one look at the chess pieces, at Erik, and then he's gone with a sudden rush of air, leaving the pieces to freeze in his spot. With a flick of his wrist, Erik has the chess pieces back on the board.

 

   As if this was common, Raven sighs loudly, rubbing her temples and muttering _"speedsters"_ under her breath as she exits the office, not glancing back but waving as she leaves.

 

  "Well," Charles says after a pause. "That was certainly eventful."

 

  "Indeed."

 

  "Let's get back to our game, yeah?"  The telepath looks up to see Erik's answer and is rewarded with a nod.

 

   The two men lean forward in their seats as they continue off where they left off but for some reason, Charles has a nagging feeling that-

 

  "Erik, didn't I take out your knight?"

 

  "I have no idea what you mean."

 

  And just like that, the game is on- though one of them can't help but glance at the other worriedly.

  

* * *

 

  Erik doesn't know how he doesn't notice it before but he's been spending more and more time outside. It's something he would never have thought of doing- his Nina loved the outdoors after all and he would have thought just smelling the grass and the scent of pine cones would make him shut down. But it doesn't.

 

  In fact, it does the complete opposite- it calms him down.

 

  From the wild patches of grass to the large old trees residing on the acres of land- the bits and pieces of what reminds him of his old life- send an air of tranquility that Erik can't help but drink in. In his opinion, it's something he needs more than ever and something he rarely gets.

 

  If he thought he didn't sleep enough before, well, he doesn't now; the bags he sports under his eyes tell the whole story. Most nights he tosses and turns in a restless mood, his mind racing and his body itching to get up and move. Usually just getting a glass of water would fix that but now he's lost the motivation to do even the simplest of tasks- all he could do then was sleep. Then over time, sleep turned on him and gifted him with a living hell that was supposed to be a dream- that was supposed to give him an escape.

 

 

  Erik was once a man filled with ideals and a drive that was unbreakable, and in his dreams, he was that same man again. However, his dreams twisted and warped and demolished that perfect image. All that survived was the shattered remains of the determination he once had.

 

    And it _mocked_ him.

 

  Ugly dark thoughts taunt him with the dreams of past lives of the choices he'd made and the ones he wished he'd done. They _laughed_ and _sneered_ at his efforts to grasp what little was left; the attempts he made to get out of bed every morning, the struggle to get a simple word out, the amount of force he would use to eat even though his stomach felt like it was a gaping hole most days. And to add to the torture, if he stayed in bed long enough, he could hear the phantom of a child's precious giggle or a woman's soft laugh sing in his ears.

 

 

  As the days ticked on and the months flew by, Erik was finding that his dreams were not the only things leaving him. His will- his fighting spirit to keep going, to move onward- was slipping farther and farther away from his grasp and he felt himself sink deeper and deeper into the pit of emptiness. And the further he sank, the colder he felt- in his heart and his body- until he no longer cared; the emotions he once had precise control over slipped right through his finger and it didn't matter anymore. 

 

  Perhaps Charles read his mind or maybe he was just too easy to read now that he was beyond caring because after Erik's whole fiasco with his terrible hangover, the telepath decided that enough was enough and gave Erik a push to go out and do something. The Professor dragged him around everywhere then; to the kitchen to cook breakfast with Hank, to the library to supervise Charles' teachings, to the Danger Room to watch the X-Men train. It may not have been much, especially when one is not allowed to officially leave the mansion, but it was something. And for that, Erik was grateful.

 

  It helped in the beginning; it got him away from his thoughts but then it slowly stopped working until it just didn't.

 

  Cooking was nothing too difficult; it was a skill he had learned over the ten years he spent in Poland. It was something he enjoyed doing; he loved to see the reactions on…. Never mind that. Anyways, after a while, cooking became a muscle memory thing to him. Whatever Hank had planned, Erik helped. Whether it be pancakes or eggs and bacon or even muffins, the metal bender just went through the motions of something he developed for years. As ridiculous as it sounds, it was a calming thing to do. Then the enjoyment steadily seeped away once more until he no longer felt as if he were doing the task; his body was far away and he was but a mere spectator: _distant, empty, lifeless._

 

  Watching Charles teach was a bit better. It helped especially to not have to do anything; all Erik had to do was merely listen to whatever lesson the Professor had planned. Sometimes he zoned off into his head but hearing Charles enthusiastically answer a student's question snapped him right back. Over time, Charles' voice no longer had the effect to drag him out of his head

 

  Observing the X-Men was a struggle.

 

  Deep down, Erik was proud of how Raven was shaping her pupils. Scott had gotten better at handling his beams, and from having to make an effort to power up the lasers behind his eyes to not even breaking a sweat as he directed a blast of heat without hesitation was an amazing accomplishment for the teenager.

 

  Jean, Ororo, and Kurt seemed to be having no problem getting along, though they had their flaws. Since her encounter with Apocalypse, Ororo couldn't seem to know how much of her power to use, resulting in accidentally shocking her teammates more than once. That and Scott's lack of leadership sparked feuds and petty arguments in the group. It would have been a major problem if not for Peter.

 

  For someone as obnoxious as he was, Peter seemed to have a knack for cheering his friends up, whether it be with his jokes or with his nonchalant attitude. It was an odd thing to see but Erik had to remember that Peter was the oldest; he must have felt like it was his responsibility to look after the wellbeing of their team.

 

  It was also a common thing to see, something Raven seemed annoyed about but even she knew that whatever was happening between her team had to be dealt with themselves. A call for maturity so to speak.

 

   It was hard to see them fight, to see inexperienced children train for something he never wanted his fellow mutants to endure, especially these kids. He knew that they should be ready for any fight but they shouldn't have to be- and it was thoughts like those that gave Erik new-found anxiety attacks; two opposing ideas fighting inside his head, demanding that he chose and chose now.

 

  On one hand, he wished for these kids to learn to survive and on the other, he wished they wouldn't have to.

 

  _It was driving him mad_.

 

  So as soon as this particular practice ended, Erik was out of the room and heading towards the elevator. The training session had been just like any other one; sentinel training. Scott was doing his best to lead his team and come up with a plan, but it failed halfway through. It took longer than it should have been- thanks to Scott- and their 30-minute session lasted for 2 hours.

 

  Poor Scott was flustered when his team confronted his uncertainty during the battle, something Erik had a hard time observing.

 

   _"Scott, you can't keep doing this," Jean said sympathetically, not wanting to sound too harsh for the teenager. Perhaps she understood the amount of pressure put on Scott's shoulders._

_"I know, I know! I'm sorry guys, I really am. And I'm trying my best here. It's hard coming up with a strategy on the whim and with machines stomping at my heels, it's frustrating to even think when I'm too busy running and-"_

_"It's okay, Scott," Ororo jumped in, cutting off the teenager with a wave of her hand. "We understand this isn't easy-"_

_"Of course it's not easy!" Scott snapped. "I have to come up with a plan in less than a minute and make sure all of you don't get yourself killed! I don't want that to happen and I can't let Raven down- she's the one who believed I could do this and do you see what happened? I fucked it up- again! How am I supposed to do that in the real deal, huh?"_

 

  _"Scott-"_

 

  Erik had heard enough.

 

  Erik knows he should have said _something_ , something _meaningful-_ _like Charles would have. He should have_ \- _he knows he should have._

 

  And yet he walked out the door without a second thought.

 

  He regretted it deep down, yes- but he couldn't bear to hear anything about fighting or battles or war. He was tired of it all, the repetition and the ceaseless conflict that never seemed to end.

 

  At least for the metal bender, it never did.

 

  All his life, Erik had done nothing but fight, whether it be for his survival or for others. As far as he could remember, there had never been a day in his life where there wasn't any aching bones or dark bruises marking his sore body. Never had there been a day where he wasn't looking over his own shoulder and paranoid out of his mind at a threat that was sometimes never there. Even with his time with Magda, there was always a nagging thought of _"They'll find you"_ and _"You can't ever escape what you've done."_

 

  And he couldn't; the nerve-striking reminder playing on repeat in his head as he tried and failed to sleep and in his waking moments as he went through the thoughtless motions of the day.

 

  Now he had another reminder in X-Men team he had the idiotic idea of training to survive when they shouldn't have to at all. There was no war to fight, no villain to slay, and no threat to prepare for. Charles was right, they were in a time of peace; they- _no he_ \- should embrace that.

 

  Yet... why does he still have the uncontrollable urge to look over his shoulder? Why does he still agree with training a group of young adults to fight? Why is he so paranoid?

 

  Why does he still think there's a war?

 

  Why is he so tired?

 

  _When did he_ _**give up**?_

 

  His finger froze on the elevator button, hovering over with the smallest amount of pressure, the tips shaking. Everything felt frozen,- so frozen and cold. Erik didn't dare to breathe, nor did he feel the need to move- the fragile, uncertain truth that he unknowingly answered after months of not understanding what he truly believed. Until now that is, and a cold chill ran down his spine and the weight of it all, the weight of the answer to a question he never knew he had.

 

  Erik had given up.

 

  And the thing that rooted him to his core was that he never knew when, and it scared a man like him. A man who always had a plan, who always knew what to do, who always knew to keep going- a man he was in the past.

 

  Except the past was dead and there was no going back.

 

  There was no going back and there was no changing it, and yet Erik couldn't resist looking back. There wasn't anything to look forward to after all. Maybe that's why he felt so empty on the inside; his heart was left behind in that small cottage in Poland, it was left behind in the past buried deep underground. Right where he should be.

 

  Shaking off the developing thoughts for another day, the metal bender forced his heavy limbs to move even though he felt the urge to lie down and never move again. His feet felt glued to the floor and the shoes he wore mirrored the fictional chains clamped around his ankle, except the things rooting him to his spot were no longer chains but weights; overbearing, restraining, cold dead weights that locked his feet to the ground- only he had the key. A key Erik had was all too familiar with.

 

  It was the key he used to force himself to get out of bed, to dress, to walk. It was a key he used to motivate himself to live even if he felt like he was a million miles away from his body.

 

  That key? It was a river of lies.

 

  _It'll get better someday._

 

  And it never got better but he had to believe the lie he told himself every night- how else would he be able to breathe. He used to have much reason to get out of bed, now he only had one.

 

  Yet even that was not enough apparently.

 

  Erik pushed the button, trying not to pay attention to the way his hands shook or how broken he felt. He wanted to both scream and feel nothing at the same time.

 

  The metal bender almost didn't hear the _"whoosh"_ until it roared in his ears and an impatient Peter was standing beside him. One hand was shoved into his pocket and the other hand was currently tapping a steady rhythm onto the small silver walkman strapped to the young man's waist. The speedster stood there, waiting, for a few more seconds until he huffed and pressed the elevator button again, his finger a blur as it rapidly tapped against it. When he was satisfied with his button mashing, Peter leaned against the white sterile-like walls with a shoulder so he could undoubtedly face Erik.

 

  "Sorry about that," The silver-haired man shrugged. "I saw you heading over here and I thought, Hey, maybe it'll be open by the time I get here since I was busy cheering up the gang and I really hate waiting because who likes waiting and-"

 

  Peter cut himself off, uncharacteristically going quiet- something the metal bender had never seen before. It made him uneasy for some reason; a sense that something was wrong flashing red. Whatever it was that made the young man stop talking was something serious and Erik couldn't help but shake off what exactly he thought it was about. Finding himself unable to fight his own curiosity, the metal bender threw a quick glance towards the speedster at his side.

 

  Seeing such an intense look on a man that was known for being the embodiment of laziness was uncomfortable, and when it was thrown at Erik, it was more than unnerving. Looks like the one the speedster was giving were no stranger to a man like Erik yet it was different with the young man beside him.  Peter was staring at him with such _focus_ and _concentration_ , and in a way, it vaguely reminded Erik of how Hank was when he tinkered with new components; his eyes laser sharp and precise, painstakingly making sure everything was right and at the same time looking for one flaw on something that was borderline functional.

 

  In less detailed terms, Peter was reading Erik for something - anything - wrong; a flaw on a mask built up over decades.

 

  "Is something the matter?" Erik forced himself to say, the words dry and heavy on his tongue. Most days it was difficult to talk and the task felt foreign from days without use, but at this moment, he would have to try.

 

  "Not really," Was all he got from Peter. By now, the speedster had straightened his posture from its usual slouch. It was an odd thing to see.

 

  Peter's mouth opened in preparation to speak up but closed after a second as he tried to find a way to say something. The edges of his lips were drawn down as if in a frown and the silver-haired man's brows furrowed in deep thought. Just when he looked ready to speak, and when Erik had braced himself for whatever came out of the speedster's mouth,  it was thrown to a screeching stop as the elevator doors opened and the metal bender took the opportunity to escape the situation before it got too personal- if the way Peter had studied him left any clues.

 

  "Are you coming or not?" Erik said, more relieved than he should be to leave this scene.

 

  Peter, startled into moving at the question, pushed off the wall and quickly took a few steps in into the elevator.

 

  Erik felt the doors closing and the elevator lifting, the metal humming in his ears. For him, their conversations were much more preferable than with the person next to him; he didn't feel like talking much right now- he never did nowadays- especially with a young man who was on the verge of asking what everyone questioned him about. He was tired of having to answer _that_ question.

 

  The trip to the main floor seemed slow and the more the metal bender noticed this, the more time seemed to move leisurely on. The thing that concerned him more though was how quiet it was. That was an odd thing for Erik to hear: nothing. The dead silence filling the small space was uncomfortable and abnormal; something Peter could and would never stand for, and now that he thought about it, neither could Erik. An absence of words created a dull buzzing sound in the metal bender's ears, forcing him to notice just how quiet it was. It put him on edge and he felt like he was on the verge of snapping; the anxiety welling up inside him and flooding his brain.

 

  Finally, after God knows how long, the metal doors slid open, revealing a surprisingly empty hallway and Erik immediately began to take a step out.

 

  His steps seemed to thunder down the hall and in his ears and the more steps he took the more the sound banged in his ears.

 

  "Hey Erik," Peter called out to him, his voice clashing with his booming feet against the student-deserted hallway.

 

  The metal bender stopped but didn't turn around. "Yes?"

 

  There was a short pause and the red lights blared once more. Erik paused for a moment, unsure of whether he should stay or not- but then Peter would question his sudden departure and the metal bender had enough of questions. When he finally made the decision to turn around, the red lights raised from blaring to _shrilling_ at the serious expression on Peter's face. His eyes seemed to stare right into Erik's soul with the amount of intensity burning in them, though the clear worry dominating the sternness in the young man's eyes had the metal bender on an edge. Pairing along with his foreign seriousness was the tight frown seemingly stitched onto the silver-haired man's lips. However, the tension was released when Peter spoke.

 

   "Are you... _okay?"_

 

  Ah, there it was, _that_ tiresome question.

 

  "Of course," Erik said without a second thought.

  

* * *

 

 

  It finally happened- the one thing he dreaded finally happened.

 

  The sunset skies his heart once yearned for, the flying red leaves he once admired, the sound and peace of the land outside that once reminded him of the thing he loved most was fading before his eyes.

 

  The wilderness of the outside was his salvation-his reminder of _home_ \- and it was slowly losing its' meaning with each day that passed. He wasn't sure how or why it was happening, but the outdoors no longer gave him the same comfort. It didn't give him the same feeling of tranquility, nor did it remind him of the memories he held of his family. All it was becoming was just nature. The meaning was disappearing and it frightened him.

 

  His Nina _loved_ to roll around in the grass outside their home, she _loved_ to point at the clouds above and describe to him just what she saw in her wonder-filled mind, she _loved_ to jump in the piles of leaves that the fall left in its' wake. To his Nina, nature was something she loved just as much as him and Magda and now it was becoming something he could no longer look at.

 

  To see the one thing that comforted him fade in its significance filled Erik with despair as he sat on the stone steps outside. The wind, the rustle of the leaves, and the birds tweeting in the distance used to be his savior by luring him away from his mind with the temptations of good memories from a lifetime ago.

 

 The once pleasant sounds became nothing to him and now there was nothing to hear; there were no distractions. It didn't take long for the silence to take its' toll.

 

  _"Papa! Papa! Come see this!"_

 

  And that toll was painful to bear.

 

  _"Papa! Look! There are deer outside again! Can I go see them, can I?"_

 

  Oh, so painful to bear.

 

  _"Papa! Papa! The deer sniffed my hair! Ah! Its nose is so cold."_

 

  With a price too heavy to pay.

 

  _"Oh, Erik. Look how happy she is!"_

 

  And a weight too crushing from a long time of brushing it aside.

 

  _"That gives me an idea. Maybe we could get her a pet for her birthday, I'm thinking... a deer? Oh, don't give me that look! I'm just kidding! Perhaps a kitten though? What do you say, honey?"_

 

  Until one day the debt is owed and the weight crashes down and all that is left is broken into shards. 

 

  The voices played out in his head; voices so hauntingly happy, so warm. An ache stabbed his chest and the air was becoming too thin. When did it get so hard to _breathe?_

 

  _"Papa!"_

 

  Another breath. _Just breathe_ \- he just needed to _breathe_.

 

  HIs hands were getting clammy and his fingers trembled against his will- _traitors they were._ His lungs felt like they were closing up- another failure to add to the list. Another thing to add? The crushing pain of grief and agony. The torturous thoughts depressing his soul; the sweet voices scratching the walls of his mind.

 

  Something wet trickled down his cheeks as Erik sat on the stone steps with nothing but himself and his old friend depression. He would wipe them- there was no need for anyone to worry- but who was he kidding? Everyone he knew was worried, most of all Charles.

 

  It was too bad; Charles was trying so hard to help him through this bad time and Erik couldn't find it in himself to care much. The Professor didn't deserve that- then again, he didn't deserve to deal with Erik's bullshit, did he?

 

  Ah, Erik really didn't want to think too deep into that thought. It was best to not read into those. Last time he did, he didn't get out of bed for about two days- or maybe it was three? The metal bender wasn't counting the days so who knew.

 

  Then again, he wasn't doing much these days. Well, he was watching a sunset so maybe that counts? Perhaps so- sunsets like this did deserve an audience.

 

  And so that's what Erik did.

 

 With watery eyes fixed on the sunset, the troubled man watched the sunset. He watched as the bright ball of light sank lower and lower, the clouds that were once white fading into a pink as it clashed with the sun's fiery orange sky. He watched the orange darkened, matching the black of the night. He watched the swirl of dark blue wash over the sky- as paint would on a canvas- drowning out the orange of the sinking sun and turning it into a deep sea of stars, engulfing the brilliant glow of the sun's rays.

 

  Erik watched as the day reset itself and he wishes the stars could engulf him too, yet even he knew that was a lost cause.

 

  And now here he sits, a broken man holding onto the past like a lifeline and treating the future like it was it was a was never there. The only thing that accompanies him is the plague that is his thoughts, choking him of air and depriving him of living his life- what little of it he thinks is there- constantly reminding him of what he's done and who he'll never see again. It leaves him lost and with a dying will to try.

 

  He feels like nothing- maybe that's what he's becoming.

 

* * *

 

 

  "Hey, Professor...I need to ask you something?"

 

  "Oh, what is it? It's a little late for a visit. What's on your mind?"

 

 "... He's not okay, is he?"

 

  "...I'm afraid he's not."

 

  "Is there anything I can do? Anything I could try to help? Maybe-"

 

  "I'm not sure myself right now. DIfferent ways help different people, and Erik is very much so. He's carried a lot on his shoulder and brushed it off for many years and I believe it's all crashing down now. He's a stubborn man and won't accept or listen to help unless he wills it so."

 

  "So what? We just wait?"

 

  "When he's ready, Erik will come to us instead of us going to him. I hate to play the waiting game but unless he agrees with outside help, then it won't be as efficient. Give him time, he'll come to us."

 

  "But what if he-"

 

  "Be there for him. The road to recovery is never an easy one, or a short one. All we can do right now is be by his side in his lonely days and have the patience of a saint. I had Hank in my dark times and now Erik will have all of us. Just show him he's not alone. Sometimes that's the best thing we can do for someone sometimes."

 

  "...You think it'll work?"

 

  "I have hope."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, I hope this chapter was okay! As I said in my beginning note, this chapter gave me an experience. In a way, I shared a part of myself in this chapter, weird huh? 
> 
> Anyways, did anyone find the poem I sorta hid in there? (Hint, it's near the end.)   
>  If you did, congrats!
> 
> Thank you for reading- now I'm off to write the next chapter!


	14. The Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He went to deliver a package, not become someone's experiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm so proud of myself. I got a chapter up in a month! Isn't that cool!  
> Anyway, in all seriousness, I meant to update a week ago but, hey, progress is progress. 
> 
> Now, I won't lie when I say how hard this chapter was to write. I didn't have any time in the day to write it so I wrote in the latest hours of the night to the wee hours of the morning. Not very good for my health but oh well. It was a struggle to edit and I just want to say sorry for any mistakes I made in writing this. I was mentally fried and being sleep deprived was not helping. I'm actually contemplating on getting a beta to help me edit but I don't know yet...
> 
> Anyways, I wouldn't post something I wasn't happy with so I have much confidence in how I wrote this chapter and I hope you enjoy!

 

 

  
  He was a man with many skills: strength, agility, intelligence. He could shoot a target with complete accuracy from miles away. He could kill a man with just a nail. He could even pick a lock with just a bobby pin. All in all, he was a goldmine in the eyes of many people looking to hire- except he was a soldier first.

 

  When an old comrade named Will had called him to the line of duty, a duty for the better of mankind, he had accepted on the spot. Sure, Stryker did some shady stuff-  he was under the radar for his previous altercations so the Major was very limited in his actions- but the man was a good friend and he never did anything without cause so it was no shocker for him to join Stryker in whatever he did.

 

  Some people called him a blind dog for following the Major but he could see good reason in Stryker's idea: Mutants couldn't be trusted. They had powers beyond comprehension, and if they wanted to, they could wipe out humans without a fight. A massacre from within the walls of the country they had sworn to protect.

 

  Just the thought of that alone had shivers running down his spine; for all the knowledge he had, for all the skills he had gained in his years of service, knowing that it was all for nothing in the face of someone with powers- with a full arsenal running through their blood and in their body- was unsettling for him. And it wasn't just unsettling for his safety but also for his pride.

 

  In his eyes, pride was everything; it fueled his strength, his resolve, and it shaped the way he lived and the man he grew to be. Yet even so, as much as he counted on his pride, it did jackshit to temper his ever-growing impatience.

 

  He had been standing out here for ten minutes, briefcase in hand, waiting outside of a rather beautiful old Queen Anne style house in the chilling rain for... someone important.  He honestly wasn't sure who he was waiting for, he only had orders to deliver the files Stryker said to - in his words- " _drop off without saying a word._ " He was uncertain about that last part- the files in the briefcase were very classified- but if the major was confident enough to give him this mission, then it couldn't be that hard. He was a man with many skills after all.

 

  Except these were classified papers and he was dropping them off at a very conspicuous house in front of a surprisingly busy street where there were still kids playing outside in the rain. 

 

  Paranoia ate away at him as he glanced back behind him subconsciously every now and then. This was getting dangerous; the parents were starting to stare at him from under their umbrellas and he could just feel their eyes narrowing in distrust. To be honest, if he were in their shoes, he would too. A man standing outside of a rather nice house in dark clothing? Even babies would find this suspicious but what choice did he have?

 

  He couldn't just break in and drop the briefcase off nor could he just leave out in the open, it was a poor decision making and a mockery of his talents.  

 

  However, if this client kept him waiting any longer, he wouldn't care because his impatience was eating his ability to follow orders. He swears, if this shitbag doesn't open the door in the next five minutes, he was going to break into her house and just dump the files there- damn the importance of laying low. Stryker could yell at him all he wanted; he wasn't going to wait out here for someone who wasn't going to show.

 

_Bang-Bang-Bang._

 

  He knocked three more times, the wood vibrating under his fist with each hit.

 

  "Hello?" He snapped. He tried being patient but waiting out in the cold rain for longer than he liked was not a good mixture to add to his fragile patience.

 

  He wasn't sure how much longer he waited, only that it was enough time for the kids to go inside and for the parents to possibly call the cops- except no one had shown up yet so it was a low possibility that anyone would be coming to pick up a dark-clothed man like himself.

 

  Though maybe calling the police would have been a good idea...

 

  He was just about to smash his fist into the nearby window when the wondrous sound of a lock clicking reached his ears and the door creaked open.

 

  _Thank God_ \- he really wasn't looking forward to spending a night in jail, or worse, getting bailed out by Stryker. The Major may be his friend but they were soldiers first and soldiers always follow orders.

 

    As he breathed out a sigh of relief,  a hyper, sing-song voice cut through the air.

 

  "Hello!" The woman greeted cheerfully- too cheerfully, he might add- and peered out at him from the door like the innocent person she clearly was. Had she really not heard his knocks?

 

  Did she really make him wait out here on purpose?

 

  The nagging thought edged at the corners of his brain, annoyance following suite as it wrapped around his mind and strengthened his frustration. His expression morphed into something unpleasant; his lips drawing down into a tight frown, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes narrowed. He could practically feel his teeth turn into dust as he ground them in boiling emotions.

 

   The nerve of this-

 

_Okay_... Okay. Just take a deep breath.

 

  He just had to give her the files and everything would be okay. He could call to confirm a mission complete, go home, and then drink himself a hard-earned bottle of Corona while he contemplated taking jobs such as these.

 

  "From Stryker." He said promptly, shoving the briefcase in her face.

 

  She didn't bat an eye at his impatientness, merely stared at the black briefcase then lifted her gaze to meet his glare. She raised an eyebrow at him, her lips tightening as she regarded him with obvious disapproval.

 

  "Well," She huffed with slight annoyance. "That's no way to greet someone. Didn't your mother teach you better?"

 

  There was a slight accent in her voice though it was clear that years spent abroad had weaned her accent away.

 

  He stared at her, no rebukes or retorts coming to mind as his mouth failed him with stutters and fumbling words that he tried to piece together. Most people would tremble by his mere glare alone, much less meet his eye. Yet this woman didn't even flinch by his murderous gaze and she even had the nerve to leave him the cold rain for thirty minutes. It was rather...surprising, to say the least, though it was a bit frustrating to not be the one in control with this certain situation.

 

  He was even more shell-shocked when the woman wrapped her arm around his and pulled him inside. When he tried to pull away- Stryker's orders were to only deliver, not socialize -  he was left flabbergasted by the petite woman's iron grip.

 

  "Um," He said awkwardly, his unease clear on his face. "I was told to-"

 

  "Oh, hush now!" She interrupted nonchalantly, her tone still oddly cheerful.

 

  "But ma'am," He replied, trying to get his point across but his urgency was brushed aside as she pulled him along at a brisk pace. This wasn't supposed to happen; too many rules were being broken here. he should have asked Stryker to send someone else; he was a soldier, not some messenger boy. "I was told only to-"

 

  "I said hush!" She said once again in a sing-song tune. "I just had some tea made and I have plenty to share. You can even tell me about the files once we get situated!"

 

  "But-"   
   
  "You know," Her voice had dropped its upbeat tune with a low admonishing tone that had him snapping his mouth shut from the underlying authority buried he was accustomed into obeying. "It would be rude to reject a gift, particularly one from a client such as myself. Did you know that your Major was not the only one to reach out to me and request my aid? It would be so sad for me to call him and cancel all our hard work, especially since he spent so much time getting me an apology gift for his previous mistake. I would hate for you to blow it."

 

  "But Stryker said-"

 

  Something flashed across her feature at his continued protest but it quickly disappeared before he could distinguish what it exactly was. She grinned at his confounded expression and cut off his tangent once more with that same stupidly cheerful tone.

 

  "Oh, that old rascal and his rules! That man is so paranoid! He wouldn't even deliver his own apology in person! First, he thinks he's in charge of this partnership and then he doesn't follow through on his part - which was a simple measly task of getting me a few, small, tiny amount of mutants -for a plan we worked months on! The nerve of that man!"

 

   He didn't have anything to say to that so he kept his mouth shut to avoid breaking this partnership further.  
   
  "Anywho!" His head snapped back into attention at the sound of her voice. "Enough about all that. Let's get down to business, shall we?"  
   
  Seeing that he had no choice in how this played out, and not wanting to upset a client, he gave up trying to yank his arm out of her grip and decided to endure whatever happened next.

 

  And to think he thought this would be an easy task.

 

  He'd have knocked on the door, passed long the briefcase, and gone home for a beer and relished in the simplicity of such an easy-and migraine free - mission. Yet here he was, getting dragged through a house without a choice for _tea._  
   
  Oh well, better to get this over with then.

 

   After navigating down a fuckton of hallways, they finally reached a long flight of stairs. He didn't say another word throughout the whole trip, though his curiosity was eating at him, despite his levelheadedness. He was tempted to ask where they were headed- and when he could leave- but a grand door met them at the top of the steps and with one tug forward, he was yanked into what seemed to be a personal office.

 

  The room was surprisingly spacious and clean; the floors were polished and not a speck of dust coated the open windows nor the dark blue curtains. A typical dark maroon rug covered the hardwood floors, no stain or long-forgotten dirt anywhere in sight. A giant elegant bookshelf practically replaced the far wall, showcasing the numerous that books shoved into every last space of every last shelf.  Yet, as exquisite as the room was, the masterpiece was in the center. With its' wide surface and sturdy legs, it looked just like any other desk if not slightly nicer except when he looked closer, he noticed something different. Curved designs flowed up the legs of the desk, spiraling upwards in a simple pattern before reaching the edges of the desk. As if climbing the desk, the simple patterns littered the corners of the wood, engraving the sides of the surface and running to all ends of each corner of the desk.

 

  He had to admit, for while he may not be a professional or extraordinaire in woodwork, even someone with no experience like himself could see the beauty and talent of the desk before him.

 

  "You like what you see, yes?" The question startled him and he turned his head to her the lady not looking at him, but at the masterpiece before them.

 

  He wasn't sure what response to give so he stayed silent; he said nothing in the face of uncertainty.

 

  "This is my father's study," The lady said as she stepped away from him, letting go of his arm in the process. "I remember how long he spent in this very room with this very desk. It was his most prized possession- besides me of course. He told me he had it handcrafted in Italy."

 

  The woman was now standing side by side with the gorgeous masterpiece. She looked different from how she was at the front door; her eyes staring at the wood piece before her like it was Heaven's Gate and her lithe hand gliding down the surface of the desk with a delicate touch as if she were afraid to mark it.  
   
  This seemed like a private moment, something he wasn't meant to see, so he averted his gaze towards the door. For a moment, he was tempted to just drop the files and walk out the door but doing so would be an insult to their partnership and damage their business relationship even further so he let that train of thought go.

 

  "Now!" The woman spun around with that same overly cheerful smile, clasping her hands with an audible clap, mimicking the thunder roaring outside. "Where are those lovely files you have for me?"

 

  Finally, they can get to business.

 

  "They're right here-" He was interrupted yet again, what a shocker.

 

   "Come, sit down! I can't have my guest sitting before myself. That would make me a terrible hostess!" She crossed the room in two quick strides, motioning him once more to a plush chair facing the desk.

 

  "And don't worry," She continued. "The tea will be here momentarily."

 

  "Um, actually-"

 

  "Now, now! No need to be so shy! My dear Albert will be here soon. If you want, I could ask him to bring some scones as well? "

 

  "No-no-no! I'm fine! But-"

 

  " _Sit._ "

  He obeyed.

 

  "So," She said sweetly, gracefully sitting down in front of him and arranging the piles of paper on the desk. "What does the Major have tucked away from me? Stryker promised they were worth the wait."

 

  "Yes, here." He had never felt more relieved to get rid of a few simple sheets of paper.

 

  He popped open the briefcase and all but shoved the arrangement of files in her face.  
   
  She plucked the papers from his hand with a dainty hand. "Thank you." She chirped.

 

  He waited stiffly as she skimmed over each file. 

 

  He'd waited longer than he was comfortable with, his foot tapping the floorboards quietly, conveying his unease. His mouth tightened unconsciously as the minutes dragged on.

 

  This woman... who was she?

 

  She was a bit odd, that he could tell but he wasn't sure if it was all a front or something more. Her chirpy and obviously fake attitude rubbed him the wrong way and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.  For a moment, he wondered just what Stryker saw in this eccentric woman that made him want to seek out her help.

 

  In the time that he knew the major, Stryker was known for his own set of skills and his love for his country and also- something  many people knew about him- his resourcefulness

 

  In his head, it probably had something to do with the physical science degree Stryker possessed that he earned in the military. The Major told him it was for side projects and explained how and why he had so many facilities. It also explained how Stryker was able to work alongside Trask and conduct so many experiments without getting arrested for so long; it was authorized.

  Except no one knew about the inhuman experiments done or the kidnapping of mutants Stryker rounded up or the sworn oath he swore for the fate of mutantkind. It had shocked him at first, and from Stryker nonetheless. To see something so secretive and brutal being done in the name of humanity conducted right under the government's nose was disturbing but at the same time, it sparked something in him that he hadn't had in a while.

 

  In his time of service, he had made many comrades and lost many more throughout his years. He saw friends torn to shreds in front of his very eyes for one wrong step on a bomb mine. He had seen chunks of his fellow soldiers fly from their bodies with a swarm of bullets and watched as the blood sprayed over him in a shower of red. He had seen the life leave stranger's eyes, helpless as their eyes held his and pleading with nonfunctional mouths to help them. He watched them slowly drain of color, their pale skin turning gray and their body feeling so light. He saw how the light- their soul –was dulled away, leaking out of the windows of their soul in time with their tears.

 

  His times of service were hard ones and he never left one feeling alive or unscathed; he never left one without a scar engraved into his very being. It didn't surprise him when he lost the will to fight, feeling like he lost more than he had gained. There was no satisfaction in the smiles he received from a job well done and no more pats on the back for his time on the field. The flames of his dedication were burning out- and what made it worse was that he had no family back at home to help him heal and that in turn made him feel more lost than he had ever known.

 

  And then one of his last surviving friends, Stryker- _Major_ Stryker – came up to him one day and asked if he would help him. He told him all his secrets and all of what he had done without an ounce of hesitation or paranoia of what he would do with that information. Maybe Stryker knew he would join him, knew from the moment he saw him. It really shouldn't be a shocker though, since he saw reason with Stryker's ideals and that dying spark within him burst to life. The embers of purpose burned, the dedication and liveliness dead within him roaring to life at the proposal of working with Stryker.

 

  Finally, after years of searching, he finally had a goal he agreed with, a way to fight for all he had seen and lost. There would be no wars if this plan was fulfilled, no more paranoia.

 

   No more pain on the inside.

 

   It felt nice to have a purpose again doing something lifechanging- for the good of humanity, to stop a threat from within their own walls.

 

   Except right now.

 

   Sitting in this plush chair, delivering papers like some messenger boy to an odd woman who lived in the middle of a neighborhood like some amateur.

 

   Choosing to meet at a grand old house? Not the best place to conduct a deal, especially when said deal involved important documents that no one knew Stryker had stolen.

 

   Thirty minutes had passed by and he had abandoned his foot tapping long ago in favor of counting the ticks of the clock. Boredom was filling his mind and a sigh almost escaped him before he mentally slapped himself to focus. The woman was reading the last few pages, her eyes scanning its contents in a serious spotlight.

 

  It wasn't until she was on the last page that a knock was heard on the mahogany doors and the lady jumped up in fake cheerfulness.

 

  ‘Come in Albert," She exclaimed, once again pulling the corners of her lips in a smile. The doors opened after a few seconds to reveal an older, gray-haired man wheeling in a tray. A plate of scones was pushed in and an array of cups and napkins was front and center on the tray.

 

  "Good Morning, Madam." The man's gruffly voice greeted. He strolled over to the desk in a slow pace and, with surprising delicacy, set two cups of tea down on the polished wood.

 

  "Oh, Albert!" She gushed as she set a napkin on her lap. "Everything looks amazing. Are those blueberry scones I see?"

 

  "Why yes, Madam. Freshly made along with your requested pot of tea. The chief hopes it pleases you."

 

She laughed, the sound soft and melodious, and plucked a scone from the small platter set before her. ‘Isn't it always? Thank you, Albert."

 

  The old man nodded and left as fast as he arrived, the clinking metals of the silverware echoing in his ears as the tray was rolled out of the room.

 

  He turned around at the sound of something being poured. The woman was filling her tiny cup with a light brown liquid, the aroma unusually pleasant. The scent mingling around his nose and he caught the faint whiff of honey.

 

  "So," She said after a long pause of silence. "Is this all he has at the moment or altogether?"

 

  "Altogether." He answered and, against his best efforts, a flutter of nervousness passed over him and his mouth tightened into a thin line.

 

  "Ah, I see. Well, that's too bad. Though I won't lie- that this was quite a fascinating read." She didn't seem at all dismayed over the limited information; it was hard to get files on mutants right now as the gold mine, Trask's work, was confiscated by the government. What was in her hands now was all Stryker could scavenge when the government ran over his ass.

 

  It was a pity but it was the reality.

 

 "It does give me some ideas though, so I guess this isn't so pitiful." She said and he could practically see the gears turning in her head. "It makes me wonder…. Oh, now that's an interesting thought."

 

  "Um, that's nice to know." He only replied out of politeness.

 

  "Indeed."

 

  She set the files down off to the side and nibbled on the scone on her fingers. He sat there, a bit uncomfortable with a dash of awkward, as he waited to be dismissed. However, when she stared at him, eyebrow raised and motioning towards his teacup, he hesitantly grabbed the small cup and took a sip.

 

  It was quite honestly good and the smell still wafting around the room had given a hint towards the liquid's flavor. He could taste the blunt sweetness of honey mingled within the natural bittersweetness of the golden tea water and he was surprised at how harmoniously the two flavors worked together. A hint of something tangy made his tongue move away from the liquid. It could have used some milk to make it more bearable but he wasn't a complainer and it would not be in his best interest to disrespect his hostess.

 

  "Good, is it not?" She asked.

 

  "Yes," He replied bluntly. The honey was a nice touch, though a little milk would have helped. That tangy aftertaste was started to taste bad on his tongue.

 

  "That's lovely to hear." She said as she took another bite of her scone. "I know milk is usually requested with tea but sadly, we ran out just yesterday. It's a shame really; milk would have done wonders with this tea. It's interesting how something so simple can change how something is just by adding it together."

 

  The comment sounded random in his ears so he just decided to go with a nod.

 

  "You know, in a way, the same could be said for science." There was a certain glint in her eyes, the lightning flashing outside the large windows, casting a strike of light on her face and showcasing her features in broad details for just a split second but that second was enough. It's said that in the light, the truth could be seen and that glint in her eyes...

 

  The words shot out of his mouth without a second thought.

 

  "How so?"  
   
  The bite in his tone had her blinking at him in feign confusion and the hardness in his eyes turned to stone when he saw her lips fighting to smile.

 

  He wasn't sure why he felt so suspicious or where the sudden feeling came from, all he knew was that there was just something he couldn't shake off, something that was screaming at him to open his eyes and see. Alarms were blaring in his head and instincts drilled into him from the past surfaced, screaming at him and ordering him to be on guard and alert.

 

  But what for?

 

  "Now, why the angry look? Do you have something to say?" She cocked her head oh so innocently like she was never hiding something in the first place but he had his suspicions. He wasn't good at his job for no reason. Experience and expertise were ingrained in his brain after years of service. He may not understand his involuntary moment of defense behavior but he knew it was for good reason.

 

  "No." The words left his lips again, a bit slower this time like it was hard to speak.

 

  "Well, if that's all you have for me, then I think it's time you left now. I'll have Albert come to escort you outside." She said as she rang a bell that he hadn't noticed before.

 

  Why would he need an escort when he knew where the front door was? 

 

 The shrill ringing of the small bell seemed to blast in his ears, causing him to cup one ear in an attempt to make it look casual. However, by the way the woman grinned at him, he knew it was all for naught.

 

  A sharp knock at the door gained his attention as Albert walked into the room. The woman smiled at him and made an odd gesture with her hands. The gesture must have been common in this household as Albert took one look and quickly excused himself.

 

 "I'll make the call right away, Madam." Was all he heard as Albert walked out of the room in a brisk pace. Silence was overtaking his other ear, the feeling not so different to cotton balls stuffed in his canal. Under the safety of his plugged ear, a slight ringing was buzzing at the edge of his senses and it intensified as his hand slowly lost its' strength to hold itself up. It slipped down to his side and for a moment, a bolt of panic welled up inside him.

 

  _What the hell was going on?_

 

  The alarm bells rang once more as he shot out of his chair, sending it across the room as he rose to a standing position. His legs felt like jelly and he knew it wasn't from sitting down for a long time.

 

  No- this was different.

 

  His muscles were painstakingly numb, the effort it took to move was an eternity. His feet dragged against the hardwood floors, making a shrill noise of friction from the rubber under his toe as it slid across the polish of the floors. Control was being lost in his arms as they swung lifelessly at his sides, the feeling of nothing creeping up his legs to his arms at a startling fast pace. His fingers grew cold under the evergrowing immobility spreading throughout his body, the buzzing bee feeling of sleeping muscles slowly disappeared and he felt nothingness take its' place.

 

  Before he knew what was happening, his legs finally buckled under his weight and he was sent crashing to the floor in an undignified heap. His face pressed against the cool wood uncomfortably and in an effort to move- to do anything- he squirmed on the hardwood floors. Except none of his limbs listened so all that was left moving were the eyes in his head, darting up and down and in all around in desperation to know what was going on.

 

  "Well, would you look at that? The effects took much faster this time, though I can't say I'm surprised. I did up your dosage after all." Shoes clattered against the floor, moving in front of him in his field of vision.

 

  The woman kneeled down, the skirt of the outfit she wore sinking with her and flowing down to touch the ground. Up above, the lady looked down at him, smile still plastered on her face like it was stitched on. It mocked him and a surge of hot red anger welled up inside him. He tried to lash out but all that twitched were his fingers.

 

 "Wha di ‘ou do ‘o ‘e?" His lips felt heavy and it was insulting at the amount of effort it took to even get something audible out.

 

  "Oh, nothing too harmful. Just put a dash of a little experiment of mine in your tea." The blunt statement had him reeling in surprise inside since he couldn't move on the outside. "I expected more of a challenge, with your obvious size and abilities. I hypothesized that you would be immune to foreign chemicals in your body, seeing how you do some dirty work for dear Stryker. I'm saddened to say my theory was wrong- but don't get your panties in a twist – the effects will wear off in a week or two."

 

   Since his body was a lifeless pile of muscle, all he could do right now was widen his eyes in shock.

 

  "Now, Albert went ahead and called Stryker to give him a heads up so, in a bit, he'll give me-"

 

  As if speaking his mere name summoned him, the old man appeared at the doorway with a sense of urgency in his voice. "Major Stryker said he would be here within the hour. He said he would like a word with you as well."

 

  The woman merely rolled her eyes at the unspoken threat. "Oh, it's too early in the afternoon for that. Just leave this nice man outside, and under no circumstance do you answer the door for the Major."

 

  "Yes, Madam."

 

Seeing the old man follow her orders without hesitation, he tried with every ounce of strength and sheer will still left in his body and tried to move, run, get up and book it. However, all his efforts were in vain as only his eyelid twitched and he was left staring stricken at Albert as the old man grabbed his arms and began the long process of dragging him to the main floor and out the door. He felt useless and so weak- a puppet cut from its strings- and he could do with nothing but stare.

 

  He leveled a glare at the woman when he came to terms with his predicament. It got him the opposite reaction than he wanted and she laughed at the death glare he gave her.  
   
  "Don't take this personally," She said, bopping him on the nose in a playful manner. "I had a new project of mine to test and you happened to be here today. I'm a scientist after all- well, psychologist really –and I must test my experiments. It's so interesting, seeing what makes someone tick, how long it takes for something to take effect, what someone does in certain situations. It's so fascinating to see the reactions and even more when I see it play out in front of me- so thank you! Without your involuntary help today, my curiosity would have never been satisfied and my questions would have gone unanswered."

 

  It was now that she took the time to stand up, her eyes never leaving his. "So thank you for that! Now I know the effects of what a little Benzodiazepine and a bit tinkering with the central nervous system could do for someone with a rather healthy vitals. Oh, and don't worry, Mr. Stryker will be picking you up so don't worry your pretty little head about getting home."

 

  With one final smile, she nodded her head to Albert behind him and he was all but helpless as he was hauled up again and dragged out of the room and down the hall. A yell was crawling its' way up his throat, intent on climbing out of his mouth for all the world to hear his frustration but still, his mouth didn't even move an ounce. His limbs felt like they weren't even there, a phantom of memories. And to make matters even worse, it felt as if his eyelids were weights, dropping down to cover his eyes and let sleep overtake him.

 

  The last thing he saw before darkness grabbed him was the flash of a grand old desk.

 

 

* * *

 

  
  As she watched the nice man leave, the smile never wavering, Emma made her way back towards her father's prize and delicately brushed a hand over its intricate wooden designs.

 

  "Today was a good day," She said, her voice a whisper. "And there will be much more to come in the future. If only you could be here to see this all play out. It would- _will_ \- make you proud."

 

  A picture, dusty despite the cleanliness of the entire room, sat on the edge of the desk. Its edges were worn and rusty, the picture inside faded and torn. Emma stared at it for a moment before picking it up. She hovered a hand over it, almost as she were afraid of touching it and with much reluctance, she traced a dainty finer over the portrait of a middle-aged man, his hair full of color and his face lively. His features screamed young with his scruffy beard and clean-pressed suit. By his side stood a shy smiling girl, two pigtails in her hair as she smiles shyly for the camera. The man's arms were wrapped around hers in a tight embrace, as if shielding her from the world outside.

 

  "And don't worry," She said after a moment. "Soon, this will be all over and you can finally rest. I'll make sure your death wasn't in vain."

 

 Emma put down the picture frame for a moment and looked over at the files sprawled over the desk. She moved papers around, scattering sheets of classified documents with little care until she found the one she was looking for. Plucking it from the hazardous stack, her smile grew into a grin as she read over the sheet.

 

  "Wouldn't that be wonderful, Papa."

 

* * *

 

_Papa?_

 

  _Papa!_

 

  _Papa! No!_

 

  Red surrounded her world, engulfing her in heat and smothering the air out of her lungs. Scared, she willed herself to crawl away from the flames, her small hands shaking with each second that passed. Her breath was coming on short gasp now, the smoke replacing the oxygen meant to be in her lungs.

 

  The edges of her vision grew black, a gradient of darkness crawling eagerly over her eyes, blinding her from the inside. She wished it blinded everything from her, shielded her from all she saw and all she lost.

 

  Heat crawled up her arms and gently licked over the skin of her tearstained cheeks. With a yelp, she threw herself away from the fire dancing along the walls and steered herself towards the door.

 

  Electricity crackled around her, the streaks of white flying wildly around the room as if with a life of its' own. Wires were ripped from the walls, the disarray causing the lights to flicker and the machines to creak, their life source dying, as they shall too.

 

  She crawled until she could no more, as the walls were bent and twisted in a way that it was impossible to maneuver over. Jagged edges gleaned sharply at her, and she quickly backed away as the metal groaned under the weight of a falling building. The floors beneath her answered its' call, creaking and dipping under her weight.

 

  A bolt of fear overtook her and on instinct, she launched herself over to the side just as the floor gave out. She tumbled and rolled down the uneven metal ground, landing rather harshly with a grunt against an uneven pipe ripped from the walls. The impact knocked the air out of her and the darkness almost won in her moment of weakness, but then the water from the pipe sprayed in her face, cleaning away her tears and the bloodstains marking her face.

 

  If only it could wash away the red on her shirt. Wash away all she had seen and the remains still left on her clothes.

 

  She shook her head and gritted her teeth, fighting her way back to consciousness. Dragging herself across the floor, she faced the memory she wished she could forget, the remains she wishes could go away.

 

  However, something sharp strikes her heart as she saw what she was looking for and her limbs fought her control as they involuntary made their way toward it. It was hard to breathe, the blackness creeping near as she crawled on her hands and knees towards the memory she wished she could forget.

 

  The smoke was filling her lungs now, pushing the oxygen out of her body and forcing her to cough and collapse on the ground. The darkness began to cover her eyes, eager to take her down under with them and, just for a moment, the idea didn't sound so bad.

 

_‘No.'_

 

  _‘Papa.'_

 

  But she couldn't win this battle- her nine-year-old body couldn't take it- so she did the only thing she could manage.

 

  Struggling with every ounce of her strength, she leaned across the floor and _reached_. The faint sound of the destruction around her was lost to her as she inched closer and closer, fingers stretched out to brush against the stained garments just out of her reach. The world crumbled around her, but her world was already gone and it was never coming back.

 

  Her world and the memory, it was all gone.

 

  At last, sleep won its battle and she collapsed on the ground with a smile fore she wasn't afraid of death. Her world was dead so she might as well be too.

 

They found her two days later, buried under concrete and metal walls, her hand intertwined with a calloused, bloody hand.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!  
> Now, I'm going to go take a nap.


End file.
